#wooly makes things move

[woolysstuff]

I did a silly

[timmydraker]

Tim had a jumper that doesn’t seem all that special, but to Alfred, Bruce and Dick is incredibly important. Dare they say vital to caring for Tim.

It’s a big wooly thing, once a pale mossy green but now with a hint of brown and white from fading and use. It’s too big for him to the point that the sleeves have to be bunched up when worn and even than they hang over his hands.

It looks like a dress on him, which isn’t help but his naturally slim build.

The jumper is held in such high regard because when Tim puts it on it means that he’s not feeling like he usually does.

His confidence, his snark, his wit, and his mental strength is either hard to reach or impossible.

Tim, in the only instance he actually talked about what was going on when he wasn’t wearing the jumper, said he felt both like a tiny little fish in a giant pond and like his skin was a sheet of paper.

Bruce talked to Dinah about it and said it was most likely a form of mental regression, but Tim refused for it to be called him being ‘little’ or anything that would remind him of being a kid again.

Because he doesn’t act like a kid, but maybe it’s not right to associate Tim Drake with a normal child behaviour pattern. He doesn’t babble or whine or want to watch kids shows like Dinah had suggest he might, but he does go non verbal or only say one or two words in response to pretty much anything.

He puts his jumper on and will just… sit there.

Tim is always moving or thinking, always doing, but when he gets in his ‘jumper state’ as Alfred calls it, he tends to slow down completely and just want to sit somewhere warm and feel the fluff of his carefully maintained jumper.

Sometimes, he seeks out warmth outside of heaters and fires and the sun.

It’s on one of those days when Tim stalks down to the Cave with his jumper on, hair messy over his head and hands held up to his chest in an almost shy manner.

Jason notices him first and simply raises an eyebrow in confusion while Damian scoffs, “What on earth are you wearing, Drake? That looks moldy-“

But Tim doesn’t even look at him, eyes on the floor as he goes over to Bruce at the computer and pokes the older man’s shoulder once before retracting his hand.

Bruce immediately turns and opens his arms, an almost heartbroken look on his face as he lets Tim drawl onto his lap and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve got you. Anything in particular or just one of those days?”

Tim speaks in a voice like a husk that Damian and Jason only hear because they’ve come closer and sound travels in the cave, “Janet, birthday.”

Bruce Wayne, The Batman, The Caped Crusader, then fucking coos and kisses his head before rocking him slightly.

“That makes sense. Do you need someone here tonight? I can call Dick or stay myself if you need.”

The two other boys in the room look at each other, shocked to hear Bruce say he will give up a patrol to seemingly cuddle someone.

Tim shakes his head, “Alfred.”

Bruce nods, kissing his head again and saying, “Thank you for coming to me so I can help you. I’m so proud of you for not making yourself go through this alone again.”

It’s not exactly a whine that leaves Tim, but it’s not a word that is Bruce’s answer.

Jason comes forward and awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “I don’t really know what’s going on, but can I like… help or something?”

Bruce smiled as Tim nods against him after a few moments, the boy in his arms turning to reach a hand out for Jason and then strangely patting the hand Jason offers up for him.

Damian, not trying to be rude but needing to understand what is going on, clears his throat and demands, “Explain what is wrong with Drake.”

Luckily Bruce had gotten better at understanding how his son communicates and looks to Tim for permission before answering, “Sometimes Tim needs to… be free of responsibility and just feel like a person for a bit. He isn’t always up for talking and just wants to be around people he trust, and me, Dick and Alfred have managed to convince him to actually come to us when he needs that.”

Bruce smiles at where at where Tim is holding Jason’s hand and swinging it around a bit before feeling over the rough calluses and thick fingers with apparent joy.

Damian frowns a little at his father’s explanation but nods regardless, “Very well, we shall set up the family room for the evening before we head out for patrol.”

Bruce smiled and pulls Damian’s head over to kiss his hairline as he hears Jason mutter, “Weird little guy, aren’t ya?”

Tim hums and pinches his finger and smiling at his older brothers yelp.

[suiana]

imagine moving to australia and accidentally catching the attention of a yandere! australian.

you're tired, absolutely done with the weather and the weird lingo the aussies use. what is a woolies? what is with their obsession with football? and all of a sudden there's now this... random australian man obsessing over you??

the fact that you live away from the city is also a problem. hours away from everyone, little to no people you can contact in case of an emergency... well, that's more of a you problem than his problem. this works out perfectly for him.

"howzagauhn? yeah, nah yeah-"

"what."

you can't decipher his accent or the way he talks so you can only stare like 🙂 as your new neighbor introduces himself to you. yeah... you probably should've moved to the city instead of some suburb.

anyway he fell for you at first sight, heart eyes and all. you were the love of his life, the one he'd buy a house with despite being in the middle of a housing crisis and the stupidly hellish taxes. he would love it if you two went shopping together and maxed out his credit card, isn't that romantic?

eventually, the two of you start going out and you realize he isn't what he seems.

well, you knew he was always a bit weird. the way he'd shake life a leaf whenever you touched him was one reason why you suspected him to be a bit out of it. like damn, is he really that obsessed with you?

then you walked into his closet and oh my god. you just knew you had to leave. was that a shrine? wait, what your lost undies???

unfortunately for you, there was no way you were escaping. not when you had taken over his mind, not when he was already set on having you all for himself.

"right, where do you think you're going? tryna leave me are ya?"

"u-uh..."

(inspo by @moyazaika) you couldn't even step two feet out of his house before his pet spider scared you back into his arms. shit, you forgot he friended that weird spider thing.

be ready to get tortured for your disobedience 🥱💔 common torture methods include eating vegemite toast and watching him scream at the tv after his afl team lost a match. occasionally, he turns the heater off at night causing you to freeze in the poorly insulated home.

he tells you it's all for your own good. that he's doing this just to make sure you stay with him. but really, you think he's doing it because he's probably high on something. not wrong but he also really wants you to stay with him.

"now, you know not to run away, yeah?"

"...yeah."

yeah, you shouldn't have moved to australia.

[notjustjavierpena]

Happy Birthday, Joel

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Happy outbreak day— I mean, happy birthday to Joel Miller!

Summary: You have snuck out to have birthday-morning-sex with Joel. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, they are so in love, birthday sex, morning sex, Daddy kink, dry humping, orgasm denial, cowgirl, dirty talk, blowjob, come swallowing 

Word count: 2.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59232835

Happy Birthday, Joel

A window in the bedroom has been cracked. The fresh autumn wind seeps into the room each time it blows over the house, changing the air to something that doesn’t smell like hazy sleep but forces Joel to be awake with you. None of you feel cold though because you are sitting comfortably in Joel’s lap on his wide bed. He has his back against the headboard and a dazed look on his face, bare-chested, beautiful, and propped up against a pillow because you have woken him up like this. 

His calloused hands are on your thighs that are on each side of his body, kneading the flesh gently while murmuring about nothing in the soft pitch that he only has saved for you. He talks quietly and groggily about the weather, the work he has to do on his porch come autumn, but mostly about how good you look on top of him right now, too good to be real, and makes you giggle when he jokes about this being a dream. 

You lean forward to let him feel the softness of the wooly fabric of your oversized sweater brush against his chest, resulting in it slipping off your shoulder. You threw it on just before you tiptoed out of the door, didn’t even bother with pants because you were going straight to the car that no one told you that you could borrow. The sleeves drape past your wrists, tickling his neck and cheek as you touch his jawline. 

“Happy birthday,” you say with an affectionate smile, scratching his scruffy beard with your fingertips. 

“You’re gonna get yourself into trouble, sweetheart,” his voice is laced with sleep, his hands moving slightly on your thighs as if he is deciding how to touch you. You have heat building in your belly, desire making its way through your veins. He chooses to reach up to grip the neck of your sweater, “Sneakin’ over here like this.”

“I’ll be kind enough not to ask how old you are now,” you add to earn a low chuckle, not wanting to entertain the disastrous what-ifs that roam around in his head. Joel yanks at the neck of the sweater, exposing your already bare shoulder even further. He connects his mouth to your impossibly soft skin there, his beard scratching you lightly as he trails his mouth up a path on your shoulder. He kisses every inch he can get to without undressing you fully. 

“Good girl,” he teases back at you, nosing along your neck with his voice vibrating against you, “Don��t needa remind me that I’m old.” 

“You’re not old. You’re perfect,” you cradle his head in your hands, threading your fingers through his salt-and-pepper curls and sighing towards the ceiling. He might think that this - you - is a bad idea but the way his lips feel on your body, the way he puts his whole being into touching you and kissing you like he is starving for you, tells you one thing: Joel Miller cannot stop wanting you. No matter the consequences, no matter the guilt, and no matter how much he tries to convince himself otherwise. 

“Joel,” his name falls from your mouth like a plea, breathless and light as you grip him tightly, “You don’t know what you do to me.” 

“You’re stealin’ my line,” he gives you one last kiss on the column of your neck and smiles up at you. His hands go down your body again, giving you time to suck in a deep breath. However, it’s doomed to not last and your breath hitches in your throat as he slips his palms up under your sweater. His warm fingers skim over the small of your back and up the curve of your spine.

When he lifts your sweater up and off your body, you do not protest even if you are completely bare underneath it. His gaze is on yours with adoration for a moment of not wavering once before he takes the opportunity to look down at your exposed chest. 

Your nipples have hardened at the slight chill, your arms squeezing your breasts together a little with how you still rest your hands on his neck and shoulders.  He places a palm just above your belly button and runs it up your body, skimming it over your breast to make you tremble in his arms. He lets his hand descend again, this time with a knuckle brushing over your nipple. You visibly shiver, chewing on your bottom lip as he worships you silently. 

“Is my doll cold?” He drawls, voice thick like honey, and your thoughts start to blur at the nickname. 

“No, Daddy,” you tell him and it’s the truth; you are burning from the inside out at how much your heartbeat is racing nowhere in your chest, having moved south long ago to soak your panties through to his boxers.

“By the way, you weren’t right,” he brushes your jaw when his free hand reaches for your chin to pull you towards his mouth. His thumb dances over your bottom lip, “I know exactly what I’m doin’ to ya, babygirl.”

You give the finger a gentle kiss, parting your lips to allow him to feel your tongue if he wants but when he doesn’t move, you slip out your tongue just a peek to teasingly lick his thumb as an imitation of how well you suck his cock. He smirks at that, letting his thumb go inside the heat of your mouth. He presses down on your tongue as if to test you, whispering how good you are for him as he does it. 

Underneath you, his cock has gone from half-soft to fully hard in mere seconds, pressing insistently against your core. He might think he is old but this part of him shows no proof of that. You dare move your hips back and forth once, dragging your wet underwear over the length of his erection. 

He groans alongside you but your sound is obscene in comparison, escaping around his digit in your mouth. The friction against your cunt is delicious, so much so that the fabric between your thighs has started to cling to you. 

“Give Daddy some sugar. It’s his birthday,” he commands with his hips bucking up, not being able to help how his body craves you first thing in the morning. His thumb slips from your mouth, dragging a string of spit down your chin in its wake. He curls both hands firmly around your waist again, pulling you flush against him so he can move you deliberately on his dick and watch your tits bounce. 

He guides you slowly over his thick length with ragged breathing, staring at the quick rise and fall of your chest when your clit gets the attention it desperately needs. You grip his shoulders and arch your back at the way pleasure rips through you, and though your cunt might feel empty, you feel everything start to build already just behind your clit. 

“That’s it, look at you, this my birthday present? Jeeesus, you look amazin’, look at those tits,” he praises breathlessly, throbbing against the damp fabric that separates the two of you. He dares grip your hips even harder, his fingers digging into the plump skin of your ass, and pull you down harder on him. 

Your moans grow in volume, your eyes fluttering closed as heat racks up your spine from the small of your back when tension starts to build. It pulls the coil tighter and tighter inside of you and causes you to whimper, the noise making Joel’s cock twitch underneath you. 

“Tell me, baby,” he groans and you dread the command that might come because you can’t think right now. One of his hands slips up your back to make sure you don’t fall off of him. Your clit is pulsing on the edge of release, knowing that it doesn’t need much more before you’ll explode, “Tell me when you’re ‘bout to come, okay?”

You hate him for it but still nod anyway, unable to speak for a moment, your breath only consisting of tiny gasps as you ride the edge of your impending orgasm. Still, with your eyes squeezed shut, you manage to speak just a few, barely incomprehensible words, “I’m gonna— I’m so close, Daddy.”

But before you can finish, before that final moment where your brain shuts off to feel your cunt spasm, Joel has halted your movements by holding your hips still. You whimper, trying to keep going because the pleasure is still there just out of reach, but his grip is unyielding and his disapproving tone is condescending. 

“Stop, not yet. We do it Daddy’s way on his birthday,” he commands and nearly ignores the tears forming at the corners of your eyes, “Not until I’m inside of ya, baby.”

You whine in response, knowing that he is right. It’ll be much better with him buried in your pussy but your mind is so clouded and delirious with the need for release that it is nearly painful how he is holding your orgasm hostage by gripping your hips like he is. 

“Please,” you say with a tear slipping from your eye.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’m goin’ to let go now,” he replies, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs and leaning up to peck your lips, “But I need ya to be patient. I can’t have my good girl act so bad just for her pussy to feel good.” 

His hands move swiftly to drag his boxers down, settling the waistband just beneath his balls to cut down on the time he’ll be without touching his special girl. The anticipation drives you crazy, a desperate moan leaving you as your hips start to twitch on their own accord. You let out a little moan, brows furrowed as you search for any type of friction. 

“Nooo, just a few more seconds, sweetheart,” he says and drags the word out in the same tone he would use with a puppy causing trouble. He digs his fingers underneath the front of your wet panties to pull them to the side, exposing your swollen pussy to the air in the room. You look down with him, watching how he positions the head of his cock between your folds. 

“Lift yourself up a little— that’s it,” he guides you, shuddering underneath you as you greedily sink down on his length. You should probably have gone slower, a feeble noise escaping your open mouth as you suddenly feel so full of him. There’s a mixture of relief and regret in you as it stings a little to have your soft walls stretched by him, the sensation enough for you to nearly drive you over the edge instantly. 

You exhale shakily, gripping around his cock tightly when you are seated in his lap. Your hands slide up to cup his cheeks, framing his face while you kiss him on the mouth after getting used to him inside of you. There’s only slight movement, a gasp here and there, a twitch of Joel’s cock inside of your wet cunt. 

You move a little to find that your clit brushes against his pelvis, and while capturing his mouth in a searing and desperate first proper kiss of today, you start moving your hips instinctively. Hearing the low, guttural moan that tumbles from Joel’s mouth in response is enough to spur you on. 

You feel his hands move up your back and around your front to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples while you ride him as if your life depended on it. He says your name in a half-chuckle and half-moan, tries urging you to slow down, but you are lost in the way he feels when he fucks you. 

“I love you,” he decides to say instead of something close to a scolding, pulling you out of your trance. You stare down into his eyes that are glazed over with desire, whimpering at the head of his cock brushing that little spot inside of you that has you hurtling towards your orgasm. 

“I love you too, Daddy,” you say softly, blinking down at him. He grabs your arms as they rest on his shoulders, pulling them from their place so he can entwine your fingers on both hands. 

“No-no, no Daddy,” he says with a ragged breath, glancing briefly down at where you are connected and angling his hips to make it easier for you to grind against him. Your moans climb in pitch and he places your hands on his chest, “Just Joel right now. C’mon, lemme hear you say it.”

“I love you, Joel,” you give him a hazy smile and rest your forehead against his.

“Good girl,” he whispers and then grabs your hips again. He starts to move beneath you, slow and steady in contrast to your youthful need of going hard and fast, his hips rolling smoothly and with no urgency. You struggle with it at first but he growls at you, holding you tighter than before and it feels like you might bruise if you disobey him. He guides you, controls you, steering you as you ride his leaking cock while your clit gets just the right amount of pressure. 

“Joel,” you gasp, starting a sentence but barely knowing where to go with it at the feel of him filling you up over and over.

“My perfect girl,” he replies. You make him groan when you drag your fingertips through the hairs on his chest, scratching desperately as the tension between your legs starts building again. 

It’s not long before you are teetering on the edge again, whining so loudly that people might be able to hear you through the window. Joel is right behind you, panting as the muscles of his strong thighs strain to make him pound up into you. 

You hold on for dear life, crying out his name as everything becomes too much, and your orgasm tears through you without mercy. Each ripple of pleasure has you feeling delirious, drunk on the feeling of getting pounded through the intoxicating spasms around his generous size and he fucks you all the way through your aftershocks. But even as it fades, he doesn’t stop moving in his quest for his own release, doesn’t want to stop before he has had his fill. He keeps the pleasure in your body burning as he continues spearing you repeatedly and it becomes hard for you to figure out where your orgasm begins or ends. 

You don’t know when you’ve started giggling in post-orgasmic bliss between feeble whimpers, bouncing in his lap as every nerve in your body is on fire, but you eventually start babbling ridiculously between gasps, “I can’t— Joel, I— Let me suck you off.”

Joel curses at your suggestion, his hips faltering for just a moment before he finds the willpower to stop his thrusts completely, “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

“I would never,” you say sweetly, making sure that your words drip from your lips like honey. You push down on his chest to slide off of him, a noise leaving you as his cock slips from your dripping, used pussy. You move shakily down between his legs, pulling the covers a little to the side to make room, “Especially not on Daddy’s birthday.”

You can see how close he is by the blush on his chest, how much he is holding back, and you decide not to waste any time. You wrap your hand around the base of his soaked cock and lower your head enough to place a wet kiss on the head, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Fuck,” he groans when you take him fully into your mouth afterward, bobbing your head with a hum and hollowing your cheeks. He is a treat, tasting sweet of you and slightly bitter of his own precome, “That’s it, princess, you fuckin’ know how to suck Daddy’s cock.”

You moan around him as a way of confirming the truth of that statement. Then you hear his head bump against the wall, the picture above the bed moving from side to side, and suddenly, hands are in your hair to guide you up and down on his length. Your eyes flutter closed and you try to focus on the taste and feel of him on your tongue. Your hand moves to cup his balls, your mouth stretching around him and moving downward until he hits the back of your mouth. 

“I’m gonna come,” he pants, his lower belly jumping with each ragged breath. You prepare for the moment he lets go, opening your eyes again to look at his stunning face when he gives it to you. His hand tightens in your hair, “You want Daddy’s load, huh? Wanna— oh shit, you wanna swallow it up?”

You hum. With a deep, guttural groan of relief, Joel comes in your mouth and his hips twitch while he does it. He spills on your tongue in thick, hot, and salty ropes of white, throbbing obscenely while you swallow down what doesn’t mix with your spit and spills down your chin. 

You keep him in your mouth until he has stopped shuddering from his orgasm, eventually pulling off of him with a wet pop. You rest your head against his hip, staring up at him lovingly, “Happy birthday, Joel Miller.”

“You little minx,” he chuckles, running a hand over his hair as he tries to catch his breath, “You had that planned from the beginning, didn’t you?”

And maybe you did.

.

.

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[brummiereader]

Binding Love (Part Two/Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After a morning of relentless mulling over your fractured marriage and place in the world, you make a quick dash out the front door before Tommy learns of your plans for the day. But when your daughter's inquisitive mind reveals your intentions, Tommy's paranoia turns its ugly head.

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst.

Word Count: 3.5K

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

" Thank you, Frances" you smiled to your housekeeper in the mirror of your vanity, fingers cradling the cold mug of ginger tea cupped within your hands, you hoped would help you sleep the night before as she finished placing the last of the spindly wired pins in your hair.

" Mam" she laid the small leafed dish of jewellery in front of you as you placed each precious gem to your skin, when the faint clanging of the last piece rattled against the ceramic plate with a brush of your fingers.

" Oh..." your eyes drifted down to your wedding ring sitting lonesome along the ridges of the handmade keepsake. The corners of your lips turning down in sadness at the ache the circular band still managed to pull within your chest.

Something so small, so simple, yet it held the weight of a decade's worth of memories. And although your husband's hand was still adorned with the gold band of vows you had made, yours wasn't. Only the lingering indent of where it once sat remained, embedded into your skin as a reminder of who you'd forever be bound to through the years of your youth you had spent together.

" Right" you rose from your seat, brushing the tear that had settled within the curls of your lashes as you made your way over to your wardrobe.

Hands brushing along the dozens of gowns hand-sewn with lace and sequins, your eyes drifted to a lone shirt of Tommy's nestled between the fabric of your clothes that had gone unnoticed when separating your belongings.

Fuck sake, you sighed to yourself at the constant reminder of his presence, releasing a stifled cry when the lasting notes of his cologne drifted towards you as you pulled it out from within your wardrobe, tightly clutching the cuffs of its arms within the palms of your hands.

You could have moved to one of the many guest rooms. But Tommy had insisted. Was it his way of making you remember, making sure you didn't forget?, your own paranoia began to nag you about the room that suffocated you every night with the reminder of the love that was shared in it, the passionate nights that once filled it.

" This one will do" you abruptly shoved it to the back of the cupboard in favour of a blouse, pulling yourself from recounting the blissful moments you found yourself gazing at through rose-tinted glasses, forgetting the reality of how dire things had become.

Happy times had been replaced with a darkened mood, an unpredictable temper that would sway back and forth to the sound of the pendulum in your foyer to whatever had displeased its owner. For when Tommy's mood was good, it was good. And when it was bad, it was very, fucking, bad.

Deciding to no longer be the kept woman, the woman that had barely a thought to herself her husband hadn't invaded, you had come to the realisation that it would be your responsibility to pull yourself out of the limbo Tommy was intent on keeping you in.

"It's quite chilly outside, Mam. Perhaps something a little warmer?" Frances voiced as her hurried steps raced towards you in a panic after noting the sheerness of the top you had chosen, sheer enough to see a peak of thrills from your brassiere.

" They say it will be mild later today" you shrugged off your gown into a bundle of fabric on the floor as you caught the worrying concern in her eyes.

" Perhaps, perhaps a cardigan then, if it gets too...cold" you relented, watching the relief wash over her as she eagerly searched behind you for a wooly garment that would cover you enough to get you through the front door without your husbands raging jealously making itself known to all those unfortunate enough to be within close vicinity.

" That's better" Frances adjusted the back of your fleecy shawl as you looked at the reflection of yourself in the weathered glass of your bedroom window, pulling the buttoned clothing around the curves of your chest.

Still, a kept woman.

" Elsie, come on! We're going to be late!" you called up the stairs, furiously tugging at the prickling fabric of your cardigan, itching the back of your neck as you paced the foyer. Eager to get going before the sound of your husband's phone call ended, and he learnt of your day's plans.

" Where's my pony? I can't find it!" You heard an avalanche of toys being tossed onto the wooden floors of her bedroom as she searched for her most cherished of toys.

Come on, come on, your body began to panic as you rolled forward from your heel to your toes to see the back of your husband drifting left and right between the crack in the door, receiver still in hand as he gave his orders to the poor soul on the opposite end of the line.

" Elsie!" You called after your six-year-old for a second time, perching on the bottom step of Arrow Houses's grand staircase as your head craned up to see what was taking her so long, when her bouncing curls and plump cheeks suddenly appeared, hopping down each wooden slab with her treasured horse in hand.

" Go, go, go" you ushered her along, simultaneously attempting to tie her hair into a plated braid with each skipping step of her booted feet along the marble floor as your eyes nervously darted to Tommy's office that had now, suddenly gone quiet.

" Ow Mummy, you're hurting me!" Her hand flew to her head in protest as you tried to twist the band around to keep her hair in place.

" I'm sorry darling, but we'll be late for the bus and Mummy's interview if we don't get moving" you winced as the skin of your fingers dragged along the tight elastic, finally pulling the last of her locks through.

" Daddy!" She screeched, turning her head and feet to the sight of Tommy appearing from behind his office door.

Shit.

" Morning princess" a smile grew on his face as she bounded into him, squeezing her little arms around his waist as he shuffled forward from foot to foot until he reached you, inches from making it out the door before the interrogations began.

" Sweetheart" he pressed a longing kiss to the side of your head, hand threading into the locks of your hair as you shrugged away from the charade of a happily married couple he was adamant on maintaining in front of your daughter.

" Car's waiting outside" he said as his fingers settled on Elsie's shoulders stood behind her, her petite hands clutching onto his as his eyes roamed over your choice of outfit.

"But mummy said we're taking the bus" your daughter pouted up to the frown of confusion creasing on Tommy's forehead.

" The bus?" Your husband's eyes darted up to you as you adjusted the bag in your hand, feeling the familiar heat of his piercing stare begin to burn your face.

" I thought you were meeting Linda and Ada to go over her wedding plans?" Tommy's frown stayed firmly knitted between his brows as he watched your fumbling fingers pull out your small silver pocket mirror, wiping the corners of your ruby-stained lips.

"Well, won't you need the car for that?" You heard a heavy sigh of irritation follow his questions at your silence. The small brown haired barrier between you both, stopping him from letting his annoyance slip and forcefully demanding it from you instead. " Y/N?"

" I have somewhere to be first" you snapped the mirror shut as you cleared your throat, when the innocence of your daughter's curious mind revealed your true plans for the day.

" What's an interview?"

Double shit.

"You have a job interview?" Tommy scoffed a stifled laugh of disbelief, shaking his head as his veiny hands straining with annoyance came up to brush down his mouth.

" Something Mummy has no business in doing, Elsie" the tone of his voice deepened, scolding you through his reply to your daughter's inquisitive mind.

You were slipping further away from him with each passing day. Why wasn't he told about this? He was slacking, his men slacking, Tommy thought to himself as his breath became heavy, his shoulders tensing with anger as you continued to ignore his questions to pat the creases that had already begun to appear in your daughter's school dress when Tommy's eyes suddenly darted to the blouse you had chosen, peaking through the open button of your cardigan that had slipped through its hole.

" An interview" he quietly mumbled with a breathy exhale of suspicion as you quickly pulled the front of your top around your chest.

Rising to your feet, your eyes caught sight of his glaring anger in the silence that weighed heavy between you. A stare intent enough to have you believe that it was you, who had done something so atrocious, that it deserved his sour reaction.

" Elsie, what do you think of Mummy's new...clothes?" Tommy broke the tension as his eyes stayed firmly fixed on you, using your daughter to have his displeasure with your outfit made known.

" Pretty" she grinned a toothy smile as her hands reached out to feel the soft fabric. " Like the feather dancers at Uncle Arthur's work" she blushed shyly at the beauty her mother radiated and the many sparkling jewels that adorned your skin she dreamed you'd one day let her wear.

" Thank you, my sweet girl" you stepped forward, brushing your fingers through the locks of her hair when your eyes cast up to the protruding bone of your husband's jaw inches from your face, his heavy breath fanning across your lips.

" Go get your school bag, love" Tommy let go of your daughter's shoulders as she merrily skipped away from the gap he was closing between you.

" Feather dancers. So a whore, then?" He mumbled through gritted teeth as he pulled the front of your cardigan to the side, fingers sweeping under the top of your exposed lingerie. " You gonna whore yourself out for this job too, eh?" He cocked a brow as you pushed past him.

" It's just fabric, Tommy" you straightened your clothes as you waited on your daughter.

" Elsie, come on, let's go" you urgently reached your hand out for her to take as she fumbled with her coat when Tommy abruptly pulled you back into his body.

" What happened to you, hm? I don't even fucking recognise you anymore" you felt his grip tighten around your arm as he quietly voiced his opinion on what he believed was a change in your personality.

"What I wear is no longer your concern, now is it Tommy?" You responded in a hushed voice as you pulled away to your daughter patiently waiting by the door.

"I'll race you there" you smiled down at your dimpled cheeked child as she eagerly nodded her head.

" We have a whole fleet of cars, Y/N. Y/N!" He called after you, hands on hips as he stood at the bottom of the winding stairs. Watching you jog off with your giggling six- year-old before his eyes flew up to the second floor and the paranoia he needed to settle.

" You're late" Linda clicked her tongue, patting the seat beside her as you arrived in a tangled mess of hair, slipping garments and rolling eyes at the soon-to-be Shelby members' orderly manner.

" First, let's go over the itinerary" she pulled out a floral notebook, her fingers scrolling down the many pages or arrangements she had already made for her big day.

" Goodness Linda, can we not have some tea, or perhaps something a little stronger to get us through this joyous occasion" Ada sent you a playful wink as you shrugged off your bag, settling into the chair between them.

" How are you?" Your sister-in-law probed, quickly noting the deep bags of exhaustion under your eyes and the heavy sigh accompanying them. " Let me guess, my dear brother?"

" He went and pulled a Tommy special again, Ada" your hand trembled up to your brow, pinching the six months worth of stress you couldn't seem to rid yourself of.

Shakey hands, sleepless nights, you thought to yourself, burying your fingers under your legs to hide your rattling nerves. Was it all worth it?

" Yes, I did hear about that" she sent you a sympathetic smile of understanding. Knowing the lengths her brother would go to make his point, as he continued to stubbornly dig his heels in.

" I think the whole of Birmingham did" a sudden wave of shame reddened your cheeks with the learnt knowledge that every living soul in the fogged city was now aware of your and Tommy's strained relationship.

"It's been postponed, the...divorce that is" you mumbled, barely able to mutter the catalyst that caused said blaring row. The word alone, causing your stomach to twist into an unbearable ache for the love that was still there for him.

"And your interview, this morning?" Ada's attempt to change the heavy topic of conversation was gratefully welcomed when a smile began to dimple into your cheeks. For your trusted sister-in-law had seen the stress the separation had put on you, been at the brunt end of her brother's phone calls as he accused her of spurring on your decision to end the marriage.

"I got the job" you scooted your hands from their numbing position, fingers brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as she matched the excited grin on your lips.

" I'm meeting him, my boss, for drinks later. To go over the finer details, and in celebration for his newly hired typist...me" you giggled as a surge of confidence bubbled in your stomach at your first step into becoming an independent woman when Ada's smile suddenly dropped.

" Him...drinks?" her eyes began to widen, darting to the side of your cheery smile at the young peaked cap man sat a couple of tables behind, tipping his hat before slipping away.

"Y/N perhaps drinks are not..."

" Ephesians chapter five, verse two..." Linda interjected into the conversation her rosey notebook had taken all her attention with.

" Ada, what is it?" your brow creased, ignoring the beginnings of Linda's religious lecture, her eyes snapping back to you as she swiftly clutched her fingers around your hand.

"Ada?" You quietly mouthed when your gaze drifted over the concern filling her sapphire eyes, the same concern you saw in France's that very morning, the realisation your giddy stupidity had clouded, suddenly hitting you.

It was just a drink to celebrate, he didn't have to know? And if he found out, surely he'd understand? It was a new job, you couldn't turn the offer down, it would be impolite. You were separated...you and Tommy separated.

" Wives, submit to your own husband. As to the lord..." Linda's ill-timed words of advice drifted to you as you released your hand from Ada's clutches.

As the continued martial counsel buzzed relentlessly in your ear, you let your body slump into the cushioned fabric of your chair until the drowning religious verses muffled with the sounds of twirling spoons tapping against their porcelain tea cups, scrapping knives cutting freshly baked cakes until nothingness, complete silence.

How could you have been so stupid? So naive to have thought you could support your daughter on a mere typist's wage? That Tommy wouldn't move heaven and earth before he'd see the likes of you working so closely with another man? That word wouldn't get back to him about your planned drinks?, you thought to yourself as the distant sound of Ada calling your name echoed through each delayed blink of your welling eyes.

Divorce, another one of your stupid ideas, from your stupid list of stupid things you thought you could achieve, you continued your onslaught of self-inflicted insults as a tear rolled down the slope of your cheek.

And the worst thing about it all, about the whole fucking ordeal...you still loved him. Still, hopelessly in love with him. Pathetic, a hand shook your arm as your head cast down, remembering the cascade of decisions that had everything fall apart.

For when you no longer needed the guiding hand of your husband, his opinions nor protection as you began to blossom into a woman and spread your wings, came Tommy's paranoia. Fear of losing you to life's wonders, to another man, your husband's clutches began to tighten to the unbearable point where every waking breath wasn't without him looming behind you.

And yet you soldiered through, the thought of separation too torturous to contemplate as he continued to tighten his chains around you until he pushed you to the point where a tearful outburst had you asking for the dreaded seven letter word, an outburst that finally had you seeing the man your husband had kept in the shadows. The real, Thomas Shelby.

" Flowers. A dozen red roses on each side of the altar. Like the ones my Artie picks for me" Linda's voice suddenly snapped you from your thoughts, her insufferable happiness searing through the stained memories you shared with Tommy.

Maybe she was right after all. Submit to your husband. The only sensible, optional choice. Right?

Bolting two steps at a time to your once shared bedroom, Tommy threw open the door, eyes wide as he scanned the room.

You were seeing someone, fucking someone, he told his raging paranoia as he began to wade through your belongings, pulling your cupboard draws out one by one in search of something, anything that would confirm his suspicions.

" Fuck!" His hand slammed the last drawer shut, finding nothing that would give him the justification to interrupt your days plans and confront you about your lies.

What the fuck was he doing?, he perched himself on the edge of your vanity, fingers threading through his hair as a heavy sigh of exhaustion left his lips. He was losing you, he told himself, burying his head in his hands as he swallowed down the nagging guilt of his own making creeping up his throat.

You loved him, needed him. You were just...Tommy refused to believe otherwise, refused to accept your separation as he pulled a cigarette from within his suit jacket when a smack of reality hit him with the winking shine of your gold wedding ring catching the corner of his eye.

Puffing a cloud of smoke from his lips, Tommy rubbed the small band between his fingers, lifting it to his face to see his engraved initials entwined with yours inside of its metal frame.

Was that when you began to distance yourself from him? After your wedding? When you no longer sought out his advice, cared to sit and watch him work, choosing rather to meet new people, go new places without him? To... modernise? he cleared the bitter taste of resentment from his throat, clutching the lone piece of jewellery within his hand, clutching onto the remnants of your marriage for dear life before tossing it onto the table for all to see like you had your marriage.

" Just what are you up to, hm?" Tommy's distrust quickly returned, feeling hurt by the sight of your wedding ring laid cold on its ornate tray as he picked up the small photo frame of you and Elsie he had taken on a trip to Brighton many moons ago.

" You better not be lying to me darling. You know what happens when..." Tommy's eyes drifted from your portrait to the mug of cold tea sat on your vanity. It's distinct smell, awakening his senses and anger in one quick, sweeping moment.

Ginger.

Commonly used for insomnia. But also consumed in regular doses as a form of contraception. A tea Tommy would tease you about in your early years of dating with it's uselessness as you refused to rely on his preferred, and most notoriously unreliable method of, pulling out.

It had been many months since you and Tommy had shared your martial bed, many months since you basked in the warmth of each other's bodies.

You weren't fucking him. So who were you sleeping with?, Tommy seethed at the idea of another man touching you that wasn't him, all logical thinking swiftly taken over by a blazing fury behind the viscous storm brewing behind his eyes at the lies he was convinced you had told him. Lies he'd get to the bottom of before the day was over.

" My car, now!"

Next Part

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219 @whereismymindnow

[mxltifxnd0m]

falling foolishly ღ s. winchester

summary: your best friend jess makes you go to a get-together to meet one of her classmates, the thing is, she mentioned two and you don't know which one she meant

pairings: stanford! sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader, platonic! jessica moore x reader, platonic! sam winchester x platonic! jessica moore

requested: yes/no: by @s4wdvator thank you for requesting lovey!!

word count: 4.4K

warnings: modern/no hunting AU, no use of 'y/n', a shit ton of fluff, you and jess being little shits to each other, mentions of sex, some cursing, title is a lyric from must be love by laufey, the prequel to my smau's: must be love and too tongue tied!

a/n: my first request for sammy and its the prequel to my smau's! it was very fun to write and i hope you guys enjoy! and I love sam and jess <33

please reblog and comment! i love to hear your thoughts and it helps out a lot <3

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

The cool, crisp January air hit your cheeks as you exited the lecture hall and wrapped your red wooly scarf around your neck. California didn't see any snow, but you were surprised that the state was capable of dropping below 60 degrees during the winter.

A slight breeze swept through the campus as the dead leaves from autumn skittered and drifted across the grass and pavement. The leaves littered the ground as you walked through the nearly barren quad of the Stanford campus and headed back to your dorm.

You were grateful that you only had two classes today, the one you just took, and you had a four-hour gap before your last one. You had your headphones on as you made your trek back to your dorm, where your roommate was no doubt still there or getting ready for her classes. You almost let out a sigh of relief when you entered the heated lobby of your dorm and quickly made your way to the third floor.

As you entered your room, you set your bag at the edge of your bed while a familiar head of long, curly blonde hair sat at her vanity as she got ready for class. You made eye contact with her blue eyes through her mirror, and you saw her mouth widen into a smile.

"Hey! how was class?" Jessica asked you as she applied a coat of mascara to her lashes.

"It was fine." You said with a roll of your eyes while taking off your scarf and cardigan, leaving you in a thin black long-sleeve and jeans.

A chuckle left Jess's lips. "You're regretting taking this 8 am aren't you?"

A mournful groan left your lips as you kicked off your shoes. "I thought I would be able to, but it's going to be the bane of my existence for the rest of this semester." You walked to your bed and face-planted into it

"Is it too late to drop it?" You heard her ask as her chair moved against the carpeted floor.

"It might be," Your pillow muffled your voice. You moved your head so you could breathe. "But the stupid class is only available this semester and not at any other time."

Your eyes followed Jessica as she shrugged on her black North Face puffer and as she walked up to your bed.

"You have my sympathy and pity." Her eyes were sparkling with mirth as she patted you on your head.

You scowled at her and swatted her hand away from your head. Jess managed to rip her hand away from your head before you could hit her as she laughed at your grumpy mood.

"Just go to class." You grumbled as you sat up and grabbed your laptop out of your bag to start on some work.

Jessica laughed before grabbing her backpack. "See ya later, bitch!" She sent you an air kiss.

"Whatever, bye whore," You sent her a two-finger salute while reading the article your teacher assigned her as Jess left your shared room.

"Hear me out-"

"No good sentence starts off with 'hear me out', Jess." You cut her off after taking a sip of your water.

The two of you sat in the dining hall, eating dinner together as people bustled and chattered around you, absorbed in their own conversations and worlds.

Jess whined your name. "Can't you hear me out for just a minute?"

"The last time I did, you got black-out drunk the day before winter break started and I had to drag you back to the dorm."

"I wasn't that bad."

"You almost threw up on me and clung on to me all night." You deadpanned at her before taking a bite of the pasta you had chosen for dinner.

"What can I say, you're a really good cuddler." Jess winked at you, but all you gave her was a straight face.

She rolled her eyes at you. "Can you blame me? We had just finished finals!"

"Righttt." You drawled out.

"Whatever, just hear me out for just a second and I swear it'll be worth your time."

You pressed your lips together. "Fine, you get a minute."

"I was invited to a small get-together and I want you to come with me as my plus one."

"Is this an actual small get-together or a ploy to get me to another party?" You narrowed your eyes at Jess.

She shook her head. "I swear." Jessica made it a point to cross her heart. "The friend I made in my Philosophy class invited me and two other classmates to their small housewarming in the apartment they just got."

"Are you sure you're able to invite someone else with you?"

Jess nodded. "Yeah, I asked them and they said it was alright."

You sighed. "Fine. I'll come."

Jessica's dazzling grin appeared on her face, and you could see her visibly getting excited. "Yes! I've been dying for you to meet my class mate anyways."

"Which one?" You raised an eyebrow.

Her grin turned into a sly smirk. "You'll see on Friday."

You squinted suspiciously at her. "I don't like that look on your face."

"What look?" She said with innocent eyes and a scheming smile still on her face as she took a bite of her food.

"I'm onto you, Moore." You pointed your plastic fork at her as menacingly as you could, but all she did was chuckle.

"I'd rather you be on top of me instead." Jess cooed as she fluttered her eyelashes at you.

The two of you had flirty banter since a month of living together. You had met Jessica at freshman orientation, and you guys had hit it off immediately, becoming fast friends and stuck by each other like glue until the day ended. You guys traded socials before you guys left. So when the move-in day came around, to both of your surprises, you guys were each other's roommates.

Since then, you guys have been best friends. It felt like you guys have been friends since you were kids. But you've only known each other for about four months, and it's only your second semester of your freshman year. Nevertheless, you have a feeling that she's going to be by your side until both of you kick the bucket.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile grew on your face. "I'd always knew you'd be the bottom out of the two of us." You teased.

Jess scoffed. "As if."

"That wasn't a no, Jess." You said in a sing-song voice as you got up to put away your now empty tray.

"Wait, no! It was!" Jessica said as she got up to follow you, your laugh ringing throughout the already loud dining hall.

You were typing away at your laptop when something was flung at you, and your vision was obscured by a piece of clothing.

"You're wearing that." You heard Jess say before you pulled it off of your face, your hair askew.

You glared at her back as she dug around the small dresser on her side of the room before looking at the offending article of clothing she unceremoniously threw at you. It was a tight, black, long-sleeved dress that had a plunging neckline. It had a skirt that flared out, and it looked like it had ended around your mid-thigh.

"Jess, are you crazy? I'm not wearing a dress in the middle of winter!" You hissed as you were getting ready to throw it back at her.

She threw something else in your direction wordlessly, and it landed on your bed. You leaned forward to grab it and saw it was one of her fleece-lined tights that she would wear if she wanted to wear a skirt in the cold.

You opened your mouth to protest before she whirled around and held a finger up. "Nuh-uh, no complaining. I let you wear whatever you wanted when we went to those parties last semester."

"Are you insulting my fashion sense?"

"Of course." Jess flashed a sarcastic grin at you.

You scowled at her in response before closing your laptop with a little more force than you needed to. You huffed before getting off your bed and began to change out of the t-shirt and leggings you wore for the day since you had no class on Fridays.

"Are you sure you're still the top in the relationship?" Jessica quipped and dodged the stuffed animal that you chucked at her from your bed with a chuckle.

After you changed into the dress and tights, you did your makeup as you usually would but applied a raspberry-tinted lip stain and some black eyeliner instead of the usual brown you did on a day-to-day basis.

You let down your hair from the hairstyle you had on all day and curled it lightly. Once you were with your hair and makeup, you put on your everyday rings, necklace, and a few spritzes of perfume and slid on your cherry red platform boots you had gotten from your sister for Christmas.

As you were bent over and zipping up your left boot, you heard a wolf whistle come from Jess. You looked up to see that Jess was wearing the opposite color as you.

Jess's dress was a frilly long-sleeve dress that ended at her mid-thigh with nude tights underneath; you assumed that they were fleeced-lined as well. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, her makeup made her look angel with flushed cheeks and wide eyes, and she was wearing black Mary Janes. If you stood side by side, you'd look like the living manifestation of yin and yang.

"Damn, it's not fair you look better than me in that dress." Jess all but pouted at you.

"I'd argue but I have a feeling you don't want us to be late."

Jess looked at her phone, and her eyes widened. "Yep, we should go now if we don't want to be late for the Uber since its like five minutes away."

You nodded and grabbed the red leather jacket you thrifted a while ago, along with your scarf, and followed Jess out the door as she grabbed her black leather jacket. The Uber to the apartment was brief, but it was filled with awkward small talk between the driver and the two of you.

As you walk into the apartment complex and ride the elevator to the fourth floor, where Jess's friend's apartment is, you feel a little nervous. You had yet to meet these people before, and you were not the most socially adjusted person.

Jessica was the extrovert out of the two of you and did most of the talking while you let her. You preferred listening anyway and chiming in when it was appropriate. You would only let loose around people you knew and were comfortable with.

Before you knew it, you had followed Jess to the apartment door. Her knock on the door broke you out of your slight daze, your body on autopilot before you snapped out of it. You heard the door unlock and swung open.

A girl with long, straight red hair, wearing glasses, and a broad smile answered the door. "Jess! I'm glad you could make it!" She greeted her with a hug before her blue eyes landed on you just behind Jess. She said your name with the same amount of enthusiasm as she greeted Jess.

You hid your confusion behind a smile as you gave her a small wave in greeting before she ushered the two of you inside her apartment.

"I've heard so much about you from Jess! I'm Mel." Mel introduced herself as she led you guys into the living room. You had noticed that there were about six or seven people in the living room, chatting and snacking on the food and drinks that were laid out.

The apartment was spacious and had an open floor plan with the kitchen to your left, the living room in front of you, and to your right, stairs that led to a loft area. You noticed some sliding doors that must have led out to a balcony since you had seen some as you looked up at the apartment complex.

Someone squealed from the kitchen, and out came a girl with tanned skin and brown bouncy curls barrel into Jess, giving her a massive hug.

"Hey, Dinah!" You could hear Jess greet who you now know is Dinah as she pulls away from the hug. "Come meet my best friend and roommate." Jess said before gesturing to you.

You saw Dinah's warm brown eyes land on you, and she smiled wide. You all got properly acquainted before you guys joined everyone else in the living room, being introduced to some of Mel's friends and Dinah's friends. You felt comfortable after being introduced and listening to the conversations that were being had. You even chimed in a couple of times, leading the conversation one time.

At one point, you saw Jess lean over to Mel, who was sitting on her other side. "Where's Sam? I thought he said he'd come?" You heard her ask Mel.

Mel nodded. "He said he was going to be a little late."

Jess hummed in response. "Okay, but-" Jess was cut off by a loud knock on the door.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That must be Sam." Mel said before getting up from her seat and answering the door.

Mel came back with a guy who you assumed was Sam, and your breath hitched as you took in the sight of Sam. He was tall with brown hair and bangs you wanted to brush from his forehead. You couldn't tell what his eye color was from where you were sitting. But he had a cute nose that you traced with your eyes. He was dressed in layers from what you could tell was a dark undershirt peeking out from underneath the navy blue polo, which was covered by a worn, unzipped brown Carhartt jacket, with his hands shoved in the pockets.

Mel introduced him to the group, and everyone said variations of greetings. You saw Sam's eyes scan the group before they met yours, and you could see that his eyes were hazel, and you could tell that they shifted color depending on the lighting. You gave him a small smile, one he returned before his eyes moved to the person next to you.

Jess saw this small interaction and smirked to herself. She stood up and greeted Sam. At this point, everyone had gone back to their conversations, and you were brought into one with Dinah and another guy named Brady. But you were only half listening to them, your mind still stuck on the tall guy with hazel eyes that only stood mere feet away from you.

As the night went on, you found yourself wanting to talk to Sam but couldn't. You always seemed to psych yourself out of talking to him. As people started to get a little tipsy, you managed to slip out of the living room unnoticed and out to the balcony. Which now, you regretted instantly.

The cold night seeped into your skin as you rested your elbows on the metal railing. It was bearable, but you would prefer to wear something warmer than the dress you were wearing in this kind of weather. You were debating on going back inside to grab your jacket.

"Aren't you cold?" A voice startled you out of your thoughts, and you whipped around to find Sam standing at the closed balcony doors.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He apologized with a sheepish smile, which you thought was cute. Sam must have realized that he had scared you.

You shook your head. "You're fine, I was just lost in thought and didn't hear you come out here." You reassured him with a slight smile.

Sam seemed to relax at your words and smiled back at you. "I'm Sam." He introduced himself as he stuck out a hand for you to shake.

"I knew that." You said through a small chuckle as you shook his warm hand, his hand almost dwarfing yours as you did. "Mel introduced you when came in."

There were fairy lights strung on the metal railing and around the balcony, lighting the area with a warm and inviting atmosphere. You could see a blush grow on Sam's cheeks as he realized that she did, in fact, introduce him to the entire room.

"Right, I forgot about that." Sam let out a nervous laugh.

You quickly introduced yourself to Sam, and he said your name like he was testing how it rolled off of his tongue. The way he said your name sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you smiled at him.

"How do you know Mel?" He asked with a gentle smile on his face.

"I don't. Jess asked me to come with her to meet some of her classmates."

"Oh! That's right I remember Jess talk about her best friend a lot before class."

You raised your eyebrow at that factoid. You didn't realize that Jess talked about you that much, which sent warmth to your chest. "Didn't realize that Jess talked about me that much." You said with a nervous chuckle.

Sam's smile broadens as he nods. "She does."

"Well, what's your story, Sam? What brings you to Stanford?" You ask him.

Before you know it, the both of you were launched into a conversation that flowed like a river in a dense forest. You found out Sam was in pre-law; he is from Lawrence, Kansas, with an older brother named Dean, and his brother is a firefighter back home. In turn, you told him about the major you were in, your family, and where you grew up.

You guys were so deep into your conversation that you didn't feel the cold anymore until a shiver racked your body when the breeze suddenly picked up. Sam noticed, and his face twisted with concern.

"Crap, I didn't even realize it was that cold out here. Here." Before you could protest, he shrugged off his brown jacket and stepped closer to you to drape it over your shoulders, filling your nose with a faint woody and fresh linen scent.

You were stunned by his actions momentarily before his stepping away snapped you to the present, and you put your arms through the sleeves. The jacket engulfed you; it was the same length as your dress, and you had to scrunch up the sleeves since they were so long.

Sam had a fond smile on his face as you focused on pulling up his sleeves before he looked away and exhaled a breath. He realized you could see his breath, so he looked back at you. His breath caught as he saw the girl that Sam thought was pretty when he first walked into the apartment, swarming in his jacket before he shook his head to get rid of the thoughts that were forming in his mind.

"We should probably head back inside." He suggested as he shoved his hands into his jeans, no longer being warmed by his jacket.

You agreed with his words, and Sam opened the sliding door and gestured for you to go inside first. You shot him a grateful smile before stepping into the warm apartment.

You took a few steps forward until you were propelled backward as you got a faceful of blonde hair in your face and arms wrapping around your shoulders. You would have toppled over if it wasn't for Sam's tall form and hands landing on your waist, underneath his jacket, and steadying you from behind.

You couldn't focus on anything besides his warm hands seeping through the fabric but were brought back to Jess's tipsy ramblings.

"You're b-back! I was wondering where you went." Jess's words were slurred slightly as she booped you on the nose.

Sam eventually let go of you as you steadied yourself with Jess in your arms.

"Yeah, I am Jess," You chuckled lightly at the blissful smile that was on Jessica's face. "I was out on the balcony with Sam."

Her blue eyes brightened at the mention of Sam, and she finally seemed to notice that he was behind you. "Sammy!" Jess called out cheerfully.

You heard Sam chuckle as he moved to the side so you could see him. "Hi Jess," Sam said with a smile.

How in the hell are you now noticing that he has dimples. Christ, this dude was getting more and more cuter by the second.

"He was the classmate I wanted to introduce you to. Sam is totally your type, you know?" She whispered to you a little too loud, and Sam could still hear her.

"Like he's smart, tall, handsome, and-" You cut off Jess by slapping your hand over her mouth. She continued to speak, her words muffled as you felt your cheeks flush with heat as you dared to look at Sam.

You could tell that Sam was thoroughly amused by Jess's drunken ramblings and your now flustered state.

"She's a clingy and loud drunk if you couldn't tell by now." You said with a tight smile on your face as you thought of the many ways that you could murder Jess.

The smirk on Sam's face was making your heart beat faster. "Yeah, I think I got the picture now. I've never seen her like this."

"Yeah, well, I've seen her like this many times." You finally pulled your hand away from her mouth when you felt her stop talking and nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck.

You sighed and patted her back. "Come on, Jessy. Let's go sit down and get some water in you."

Jessica grumbled into your neck, and you could barely make out the words, but it sounded like she wanted to go home. You looked at Sam with an exasperated expression on your face, making him laugh. You couldn't hold back the smile on your face at the sound of his bright laugh.

"Okay, but let's drink some water, say bye to everyone, and then we can go, okay?" You said gently to Jess as you petted the top of her head, and all she did was nod into your neck before adjusting herself so she could be tucked into your side.

"I'll come with you," Sam said. "Looks like you have your hands full and need help." He gestured to the 5'10 blonde nineteen-year-old hanging off of you.

With some thought, you eventually accepted Sam's help. With his help, Jess drank a bottle of water and ate some food that was still out. You said bye to everyone in the apartment, grabbed your jackets, and Sam called an Uber for the three of you to take it back to the dorm since he lived in the building across from yours.

Sam graciously took the front seat while you and Jess sat in the back. She dozed on your shoulder, and before you knew it, the three of you were back on campus with Jess's shoulder slung over your shoulder as you led Sam to your room. You were okay with just walking back to the dorms by yourself with Jess, but Sam insisted that he'd walk you guys to your room.

If this was anyone else, you would have been creeped out, but you knew Sam had nothing but good intentions behind those eyes that reminded you of a puppy's. So he walked with you and Jess all the way until you made it to the room. At this point, Jess had sobered up slightly but trudged into the room as you unlocked it. You stood in the doorway as Sam lingered in the hall.

"Thanks for helping, you made things easier than it had ever been before."

Sam shook his head. "No problem. Does she get that way a lot?"

"No. Sometimes it's me clinging to her, but more often than not it's Jess." You said with a small chuckle. Sam smiled at the sound of your laugh and looked down at his feet.

Sam looked a little nervous as he looked back at you. "I'm glad we met. I really liked talking to you tonight."

"So did I." You sent him a kind smile.

"Could I get your number?"

Your smile widened as you nodded. The two of you traded phones as you set up new contacts with one another. Once you were done, you guys gave each other's respective phones back, smiles lingering on your faces. You looked down at your boots and remembered that you were still wearing his jacket.

"Oh! here's your jacket." You took it off, even if you didn't want to, and gave it back to Sam.

Sam took it and folded it over his arm as if it were a suit jacket. You both stared at each other for a moment before you spoke up.

"Well, thanks for the help and walking us back, Sam. You've been a real gentleman."

He playfully bowed, bending slightly at the waist as he placed his free hand on his chest, looking at you cheekily. "The pleasure has been mine," Sam said before straightening to his full height.

A giggle escaped your lips. "Cheeky." You said before you bit your bottom lip. You didn't want to second guess yourself, and even in your platform boots, you had to lean up and plant a kiss on Sam's cheek.

"Goodnight, Sam." You said with a shy smile as you drew back from him, a dopey smile on his face as his dimples appeared on his face.

"Yeah," He said breathily before shaking his head slightly and clearing his throat. "Goodnight," Sam said your name before the two of you shared a smile. You stepped back from the doorway and closed the door. You locked the door and turned around to find Jess sitting on her bed with tired eyes but a shit-eating grin on her face.

"You saw the entire thing didn't you?"

"Mhm. Never knew you had the balls to kiss him on the cheek. Maybe you are the top."

Jess wasn't fast enough to dodge the massive stuffed animal you kept on the edge of your bed, and the two of you dissolved into laughter as it hit her face.

[tbshorts]

Starly turns a tiny cowlick into a powerfully proud pompadour

✨ Bidoof ✨ ... and Bibarel, I guess.

Kricketot and Kricketune are good, if unspectacular, costuming

Video scripts below the cut

Starly:

Why hello there, Gen 4 Pidgey, what is your deal?

Well, Starly isn't much of anything, it's a fairly literal translation of a starling, albeit with a quite compelling graphic design on the face and a good use of that one white tailfeather and the little cowlick on the head to give it some uniqueness.

Staravia mostly doubles down on those ideas, hardening the face mask into a star and REALLY curling that cowlick into a spitcurl that, along with the severe expression, gives it some strong confrontational energy.

And all of that comes to a head culminating naturally and very smoothly in Staraptor, which moves basically all of the design detail to the head and face. Its face crest now spreads out in sharp spikes, the eyes are red and focused and serious, and it's grown what's always seemed to me like a Bōsōzoku hairstyle, that particular brand of youth counterculture so embedded in Japanese pop culture. The blood red that it's tipped with gives it some much needed color and more menace, almost as though it's daring you to comment on its silly hairdo.

I feel the rest of the design is a bit neglected here, it could use some more detail, but all in all, it's effective, it looks powerful, it works.

Grade: A

Bidoof:

You know, if Bidoof didn't evolve, I might genuinely put it in S-tier.

Every generation needs its Rattata, right, a mostly weak, somewhat cute but usually quickly discarded Normal type with an early evolution, entirely designed to be left behind. Bidoof is that for Gen 4, but… who could ever abandon this precious child? Look at him! I struggle to even really articulate it, because its sweetness is so obvious.

Bidoof's shape language is very simple, all circles and rounded shapes, which then contrasts with the sharp rectangles of its teeth. And that enormous overbite combined with the tiny little red clown nose and those sweet little button eyes that are just a little too far apart… god it looks precious. It's so fucking cute! What dark alchemy did they pour into this beast to make it so fucking appealing??? If you can put him in a PC box and leave him without feeling guilty, your soul will not see Heaven!

The evolution, though… I mean Bibarel is fine, it's cute enough, but between that weird eye mask, the pinprick eyes which just don't work on it and the loss of a lot of its wooly fluffiness… some of the magic is lost.

It's still cute, it's still good, but it's just not Bidoof anymore.

Grade: A

Kricketot:

I don't usually give bug types much attention because, well, they tend to be weak and I don't like their type matchups, but Cricketot is a deceptively adorable little thing. With its wide collar and markings on the chest, it looks like it's wearing a fancy olde timey outfit, and depending on if you see the round shape on its face as a mouth or a nose it looks various degrees of awkward and shy. The color scheme is maybe a bit drab, but what a dapper little gentleman.

This all comes very much to a head in Cricketune, with its big imperious moustache the wings hanging off its body like fancy coat tails. Going by its pokédex entries it's supposed to evoke the idea of a virtuoso composer, playing on the idea of grasshoppers and crickets as violinists. And, yeah, I can see that idea. I think maybe the markings on the body could have evoked white tie dress a bit more explicitly, or maybe have its antennae shaped like musical notes or something, but, no, yeah, I buy it.

As a design, this is… perfectly effective. It's not exciting, but it's a fun idea and it works… well enough.

Grade: B

[pursuedbyamemoryy]

illinois toll road, indiana plain 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

author’s note : this is kinda like a preview for a longer version i have planned!!! i’m gonna make this my first ever chaptered fic :,,) hope u guys enjoy!! also lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future parts <3

“i still don’t think this horse likes me” sadie said, holding her hand out to gently stroke the horse’s nose, who responded with a huff and a flare of his nostrils.

“he likes you just fine, sadie. he just doesn’t like to be pet on his face. try his neck and shoulders instead” you reached out to reposition her hand, and both sadie and the stallion visibly relaxed as her hand gently stroked his neck.

like watercolors, the sky was painted with various hues of oranges and pinks, casting a warm glow over your and the bounty hunter’s skin. the air was warm, but not so hot as to leave you feeling sticky with sweat. spring was finally settling over west elizabeth, animals were being born, and flowers started to fill the otherwise unoccupied corners of the farm.

“i grew up with horses too and i can tell that this one don’t like me very much.” a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and her eyes were on you as she continued to cautiously pet the large animal in front of her.

you couldn’t help but laugh, your smile reaching your eyes, the sight of which made sadie’s stomach flutter. “fine then, let’s go see the other animals, yeah?” you suggested, linking her arm with yours as you led her to another fenced off area of the farm.

growing up as a farmer’s daughter meant you knew these fields like back of your hand. all the best places to run off to when in need of time alone, or which side of the lake was coolest in the summer months were things that were ingrained in your memory. finally, you had someone to share it with. your secret hide away places had become sanctuaries shared with your lover, where you’d be able to kiss and hold each other without the prying eyes of your family watching over you.

you led her to the sheep pen, waking through the gate before shutting it behind you with a soft click. “i don’t think i’ve told you, but a lamb was born the other day.” you said excitedly as you pointed out the wooly knobby kneed animal that stuck close to it’s mama’s side.

“‘s cute.” sadie approved with a hum, a soft smile settling over her features. you felt her hand slip into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

you and sadie visited other animals on the farm as the sun continued to sink lower behind the trees. the pinks and oranges of the sky faded away into deep blues and purples. the stars twinkled up above as the crickets woke, adding an extra layer of soft noise to the already existing animal shuffles and sounds. you tucked yourself closer into her side as the temperature dropped slightly, your hands still intertwined.

after your usual tour of the farm you ended up near the lake, the water softly lapped against the soft earth of the shore. you and sadie stood close, her warm chest pressed up against your back, a nice contrast to the cooler night air. “i should probably go” sadie said quietly, leaning down to speak almost directly in your ear, her lips brushing against your hair. “its gettin’ late. plus i know your daddy ain’t too fond of me” her hand moved to your waist, holding you close to her. you cherished every moment spent with her, every touch no matter how small. she was frequently away on bounty hunting duties, and the fear of her getting seriously injured or even killed constantly plagued your thoughts.

in fact, the two of you had met because she got injured while going after a bounty. that made your anxieties all the more real, but she was quick to help you resolve those thoughts by coming back to you time and time again. because of this, you always hated when she left again, it always felt like an eternity before you saw each other again.

you frowned, never ready for her to leave. “i don’t care about daddy right now. stay with me? just for tonight?” you asked, looking into her warm hazel eyes. you reached up to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. sadie was stubborn, but it was easy for you to convince her.

she sighed and smiled softly. she spoke up after a second of contemplation. “alright.”

“thank you” you said quietly, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. she smiled again, leaning in to kiss you properly. her lips were soft and sweet against yours and her thumb traced circles into your hip. both of you pulled away after a moment, your cheeks growing warm as she looked at you with half lidded eyes. you stepped back and slipped your hand into hers once again and started to lead her to the small farm house that sat at the front of the property.

“you can help me take care of the animals in the morning too, it’s perfect!” you laughed, swinging your hands slightly in between the two of you.

“i agreed to sleep over, not do your chores for you” she scoffed, knowing she would agree either way.

tags : @nutluvs @lovearthur @aleenuhs

[alenseress]

"Oh. Hah."

Elias makes his way in without much commotion to it. There's certainly enough space around Jon's somewhat limp body sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of the doorway and he makes use of it, eventually stopping to neatly fold his coat. Jon is not entirely sure he finds it in him to be surprised. Or scared. Or, maybe, he just doesn't have enough will of his own left to feel pretty much anything.

"Take the shoes," he clears his throat out, trying to find his voice. "Take the shoes off. Georgie doesn't—"

"I know."

Of course.

"Of course," he blinks first and shuts the door second.

They go by a kind of move-stare-follow protocol while Elias proceeds to make himself at home. Although it's mostly Jon doing the staring, Elias doesn't look at all. He walks across the flat blindly, like his muscles remember the floor and the corners. Jon supposes they might, in some omniscient and messed up way.

"Charming," Elias proclaims dryly at the thin mattress Jon came to inhabit.

"Indeed," Jon echoes.

Seeing the man plop down gracelessly in his thick flannel suit doesn't have the same effect anymore. Jon used to think it was some weird corporate thing, something they'd teach you at a workshop about great leadership. Make yourself approachable. Sit down with them on a dusty curb in the back alley, share a cigarette, address them by their names. Crush a man's scull into a purée in their office. Make them feel. Make yourself human.

"Don't," Elias said softly as Jon takes a breath in.

He reaches out a hand that Jon doesn't take. Instead, he sits at the opposite end of the mattress, feeling a sudden vertigo. Elias drops the hand into his lap, palm up. "You're burning up."

Jon cracks a hysterical laugh, heavily propping himself up. He feels a tug at his chest, a yearning for a solid form beside him, spitting "fuck you" in the viper's face — a sad, childlike desire, to call for Tim like he'd make all the monsters go away in an instant. Jon squints at the hungry void across from him, all alone, he's so alone, and the monster creeps closer. Elias takes his still burning, still bubbling hand in a firm hold and tugs until the void swallows Jon whole. He watches the fall of his own body, wet forehead pressed into the wooly fabric, bones twisted in an unnatural position. Elias jolts involuntary as Jon tumbles into him but sits still for the few excruciating moments Jon needs to collect himself. Mentally, mostly, because to recuperate his body on the ground — mattress, — and push himself up against the wall proves to be easier than walking.

They sit now, shoulders and sides touching, and Jon now can't see the void. He closes his eyes to be sure and pants heavily.

"What are you doing to me?"

"Nothing. You're just dehydrated."

"Sure."

Elias sighs and runs circles over his wrist.

"I might get sick," Jon adds.

"You are."

"No, I mean." He gestures vaguely, shaking off the cold fingers. "I mean puke."

"Mhm."

Jon makes an effort to pull his knees up and double over, curling in on himself. He breathes, fast and panicked, trying to will the nausea away and the cold hand returns to pet steadily at his back. Jon feels a very particular nothing about it being there.

"You..."

Killed. A complete sentence, not even an accusations, because Jon doesn't know how to finish it. Leitner. Gertrude. Sasha. You killed me, he wants to say, even when he's still hurting and breathing.

"Time and place, Jon. There's no use to try right now."

Jon squeezes his head between his knees and wants to wail. He wants to cry more and he wants Elias to be gone. He does get away, truth be told, the mattress shifts and pangs and Jon doesn't know if this twisted delirium of his is ever coming back until Elias carefully unfolds him.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he sounds almost amused as he cradles Jon close, pushing a bottle into his hands and palming greasy hair out of the way.

Jon drinks in gulps that hurt him more than the burning and drops his head onto the bony shoulder in some exhausted kind of surrender. Elias smells like the archives. Cologne and cigarettes, too, but mostly dry rot and dust. Never sweat. Never the must of a human body. Jon feels cold terror bite at his ankles and curls up again, this time pressing himself into Elias' rigid form, nose buried in satin. He doesn't knows gods, not the way his grandmother did, but he imagines this to be the smell of those catholic statues adorn in silks and left to stale for centuries on end.

Feed your god fearlessly and without hesitation, or it will feed on you.

He feels a gentle press to the top of his head. Might be lips or something else, Jon doesn't know, but he laughs coarsely, clinging to the shirt with bloodless fingers. "Don't get the wrong idea."

He doesn't really think there are any wrong ideas left between them.

Elias hums and it echoes all around. Jon speaks again. "Is this real?"

He's not sure if he's doing the thing, but Elias scratches at the base of his skull with repulsive tenderness and answers earnestly. "It is."

"What do you want?"

"At the moment?"

"I... Yes."

"For you to sleep, preferably."

"Why?"

Jon feels his pitying gaze. Like he's a blind rat staggering in a labyrinth under a watchful eye from the above.

"There's a job to be done, Jon."

Jon pushes away with a sigh, not meeting much resistance, and buries himself into the scattered sheets. Maybe this is the kind of acceptance the underground woman felt in the face of death. He never understood it before, not before a kiss touches his temple and slips onto his cheek. He's not sure he wants the touch. He's not sure if he resents it. Papers slide across the floor, a statement he won't read, not now, not in this room. He kind of expects footsteps and shutting of doors now, but instead Elias gives them some distance and seemingly settles for good, prickly eyes creeping up Jon's spine.

"Do you want to hurt Georgie?"

"No."

"Are you lying?"

"Not to you, Jon."

Jon turns his back on the monster in his bed and doesn't find it in him to care if he doesn't wake up.

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS - The Epilogue'

Summary: A conclusion to what has happened in the ‘You’re Mine’ sequel 'Ours'

Index: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI - if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the series. 🐑 🤍

Part 2 - 'Baby #3'

word count - 9.7 k

The soft glow of the screen illuminated the dim room, casting a warm light over Trent and you as you nestled close together in your seat. The sound of a football game played in the background, but your attention was divided between the match and each other. Your head rested on Trent with your hand comfortably entwined with his laying over your stomach. You couldn’t get enough of him lately and close was not close enough. The familiar scent and comfort of his cologne, creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere you never wanted to leave.

“I haven’t watched an adult moving in ages.” You giggled cuddling further into Trent in the cinema after an advert for a new film coming out soon flashed across the screen.  It was just after dinner, you’d eaten and finished your outing to the farm and after some showers and baths following it you were now happily in Trent’s arms watching the footie match while Teddy and Theo occupied themselves. You really hadn’t seen a proper movie you had wanted to in ages because of your babies. Honestly, you weren’t even sure what was out at the minute. It had been a lot of Bluey in your house and lately, naturally… Shaun the Sheep.   

“An adult movie, yeah? What kind of adult movies are you watching?” Trent teased you, squeezing your side a little as you laid tucked in his arms. 

“Oh stop! That’s not what I meant.” You playfully swatted at him. He gave you a smug smirk and raised his eyebrow if to say ‘really?’ “Stopp! What? Are you watching any?” You asked with feigned annoyance at his assumption you had been. You bit your lip looking at the mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Yeah, baby.” His confessional answer took you by surprise. When did this man have time to watch porn without you knowing was really what you were thinking. “You make the best ones.” He continued with some cheek winking down to you before returning his gaze to the match. Of course, that’s what his answer was. Despite being his wife, despite being glued to him for more than half a decade Trent was always greedy for you and the spicy videos you’d make together or send to him were always a more than welcomed treat. 

“Oh my god!” You groaned, rolling your eyes. You tried to wiggle away from him but he wasn’t letting you go anywhere. He just held you tighter with a smug laugh and a few kisses. It was approaching your wedding anniversary once again and you really felt like things had never been better. Since you tied the knot, every year for your anniversary during the summer holiday you would take a trip to as many locations as years you’d been together. It was a sweet idea Trent came up with and this year you had landed on going to four islands in the caribbean for the four years of marriage. You did decide though that Teddy and Theo would join you on this one because you both wanted them to go to the destination.

“You think we’ll be able to find any sheep for Theo? He’s going to miss his little wooly friends.”  You teasingly asked after overhearing a squeal from Theo from the other room. Your eyes sparkling in the dim light as Trent chuckled, his laughter low and warm. He turned his head slightly to press a kiss to your temple, his arm tightening around you.

“We’ll find him some. I won’t lie, I'm a little over it. I’m team Ted now. The smell isn’t it for me but I’ll make it happen if that’s what you want, baby. I’ll find the only sheep on the island if it means making you and our little lad happy.” Trent teased but with a hint of sincerity in his voice. You laughed softly, your heart swelling with affection for him. Trent had a way of making everything seem possible, of bringing joy and adventure into your lives, even in the simplest of moments. As you sat there, you found yourself thinking about your kids and how much they had grown before Trent cut your blissful thoughts. “He’s so strange, baby.” Trent laughed to himself thinking about Theo’s surge of interest in farm animals.

“He’s not weird! He’s curious.” You feigned a faux pout to Trent. You knew he said it with cheek and didn’t mean it seriously but you pretended to be offended by his critique of your perfect baby boy.

“He’s curious and very funny. I love him, he’s goated.” Trent corrected himself with a bit more of a laugh and you rolled your eyes at his unintentional pun. Trent nodded, a proud smile tugging at his lips. “I just want to hold onto you forever, beautiful. My whole world.”  Trent muffled into your hair after a comfortable silence simply enjoying the closeness and the quiet murmur in the cinema around you interspersed with squeals and giggles from outside it. 

“Please.” You childishly cooed, squeezing him more. “Can you hear them?” You smiled hearing Teddy babble away about something to Theo. They were playing outside of the room. You could still hear them though, it just sounded like gibberish. Teddy was an amazing big sister and they would be fine alone for small bits of time so you let them play, more than okay with some time with Trent.

“What are they on about?” Trent asked like you’d know. You shrugged. There were few things as cute and as funny as your toddlers conversing. They were in their own reality happy as can be.

“Thank you for giving me my babies. They’re everything to me.” You sighed to Trent with a gentle smile.

“I loved every bit of it all, baby. Start to finish. Some parts were maybe harder than others but if it got us to right now, right here, I wouldn’t change a thing. Do it all again with you, with them.” Trent kissed your lips with a hum holding you tight to him. The game played on, but your mind drifted somewhere else. You bit your lip, feeling a familiar nervous flutter in your stomach. You shifted slightly, glancing up at Trent through your lashes. 

“So you know…” You sheepishly asked Trent. Your voice was vague, but Trent knew exactly what you meant. He had seen the signs before—twice actually. How you became even more affectionate, your desire to be close to him almost insatiable. How your need for him grew in these specific ways, the way you sought his warmth and touch. The signs had been unmistakable the second time and they were just as clear now to him.

“I’ve had a hunch.” Trent cooed gently, his voice low and full of understanding but then flashed a heartbreakingly beautiful smile. He turned to look at you fully, his eyes searching yours. There was a knowing smile on his face, soft and reassuring. Your cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and a little embarrassment. You felt your heart race, a familiar blend of anticipation and tenderness filling you. Trent squeezed your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“Well… and your hunch is…” You smiled at him with a twinkle in your eye. You laughed softly, your head dipping slightly in mock bashfulness. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his neck, your breath warm against his skin.

“Nah, come on Y/N, did you take a test or not. Don’t play with me. Are we having another baby?” Trent’s smile widened, his heart beating a little faster at your words. Your lips curled into a smile, tears filling your eyes as you nodded. You’d taken a test because of a hunch of your own the other day and were still trying to think of a cute way to tell Trent till now but he figured it out on his own. You could feel that he knew. He did. It wasn’t all that dramatic for him to find out this way, but it was romantic in the way that he knew you so well. He loved knowing you that well, how close you two were, how even after all these years, the spark between you never dimmed. He loved you. He turned his head slightly, catching your lips with his in a soft, lingering kiss. The warmth between you grew, the connection deepening with every shared breath. In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the game on the screen or the world outside the cinema. It was just you two about to embark on another adventure, wrapped up in each other, planning your future and cherishing the present. You felt a swell of happiness as you realized, once again, how truly blessed you were to have Trent by your side. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything in the whole world. I’ll never be able to understand what I did to deserve you but I promise I will never take what you or our…” He paused for a moment, beginning to smile.  “Three babies for granted.” Trent whispered as the kiss broke, Trent rested his forehead against yours in the soft darkness. You smiled, eyes shining with tears of joy. You sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, dreaming of your next baby and the little life growing inside you, knowing that no matter where life took you, you would always have each other. 

“Dada? What doing?” Your moment of sheer bliss and emotion was sliced in half by the voice cutting through the room, one of your dogs trailing behind the little boy eager to find Trent.

“My favorite things, mate.” Trent smiled seeing Theo come stand in front of you two.  He looked so innocent. You just wanted to reach over and squish him. Eat his chubby little cheeks. He pulled at the sleeves of his Essentials hoodie covering his hands, making sweater paws like Trent did. Theo wanted to be just like him and he tried but what was funny, was that when he wasn’t trying, he was probably the most successful. Theo swayed thinking for a moment. You figured you’d just let them have their conversation, staring at the other version of themselves. 

“Like whats?” Theo asked as he moved to awkwardly try to get onto the seat. His tiny hands gripping the cushion with all his might. His chubby cheeks puffed up in concentration as he huffed a tiny breath, his brows furrowing in a serious effort. He lifted one leg high, almost too high for his own balance, and placed a wobbly foot on the edge of the couch. For a moment, he teetered on the brink of toppling over but managed to steady himself with a comical sway. With a grunt of exertion, he pushed himself up, his other leg dangling off the side as if unsure whether to follow. 

“Watching footie, having a cuddle with mummy.” Trent told Theo extending his arm out to help drag him up. Theo kicked a few times, trying to find some leverage, and finally, with a burst of clumsy enthusiasm, he flopped his whole body onto the couch with Trent’s help.

“Oh… like those too. My favorite too, dada!”  A giggle escaped his lips as he landed, face first into the cushions, his legs still hanging off the side. He wriggled and squirmed, using his pudgy little arms to pull himself up further.

“Yeah? C’mere then. Watch with me.” Trent smiled at Theo dragging him towards you and him. Trent loved that Theo loved footie. Watching matches with his son was surreal. They’d sit and talk about the game for hours it felt like. Theo asked all the questions Trent was dying to answer for him.

“And give mama kiss.” Theo tacked on telling Trent that was as equally as important as the game unfolding. Trent hummed, agreeing.

“Is that my Theo?” You cooed gently bringing him into a tight embrace. Theo mumbled a ‘hi mama’ into your warm skin. “My best and prettiest boys.” You cooed kissing Theo’s hair and then another to Trent’s chest.

“Dada like football and mama?” Theo asked Trent wriggling in your hold to pick his little head up to look at his dad with naive innocence.

“Like both but I think mummy just edges it though, huh? What about you?” Trent asked him, running his hand over Theo’s freshly braided hair.

“Yeah huh.” Theo giggled squirming to get Trent’s hand off him sillily. “Like mama more but like footie toos.” Your little boy confirmed.  Trent confirmed his statement once again with a quiet ‘agreed.’ He smiled looking at Theo knowing he was a mummy’s boy and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Teddy girl, where are you, baby?” You called out into the room trying to see where she was after assuming she would’ve tailed Theo into the room. “Thank you, baby for picking me over footie. I know you love footie.” You whispered, kissing Theo’s cheek as he moved to wrap his little arms around your neck with a nod. 

“Daddy! Guess what!!” Teddy was quick to run into the room with information for Trent after hearing your call, her eyes sparkling with happiness. She jumped on the sofa and immediately squished herself against him. Her face lit up with a big, joyful smile. She clambered further onto his lap, wrapping her small arms around his neck and nestling her head against his chest. Trent looked down at her, his heart melting at her affectionate gesture. He wrapped his arms around her little body, holding her close as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Teddy giggled softly, feeling safe and cherished in her daddy’s arms. She looked up at him with pure love. You had no idea what she had to say but you were excited to hear whatever it may be. 

You were due soon. Boy number two, baby number three on the way. This pregnancy had been calm, almost chill. This had been different from the start. With your first two, you had experienced so many ups and downs—morning sickness, restless nights, constant fatigue and of course the chaos that followed in postpartum. But this time around, everything felt smoother, almost serene. The little life growing inside you seemed to bring a calm that you had never felt before, and you embraced it with open arms. This little baby was your peace. Trent noticed it too. He had been worried when you first found out, remembering how challenging your previous pregnancies had been. But every day, he saw the peacefulness in your eyes, the gentle glow of your skin, and the ease with which you moved. It was as if this baby had come with a promise of tranquility, a soft breeze in your otherwise bustling life. You had once worried about how you would manage it all—raising two energetic children while carrying a third—but you soon discovered that you had more help than you could have ever imagined. Teddy and Theo were a dream. They seemed to sense the change in their mum and had grown into their roles as big sister and brother with an almost surprising maturity. Teddy, always the little helper, would sit next to you, her small hands patting your belly with gentle care. You would smile, her heart swelling with love. You softly would brush Teddy’s hair back and kiss her. You were so grateful for her sweet nature and her ability to fall into her big sister role with ease. Theo, on the other hand, had become even more of a cuddle bug. He would climb onto your lap, nuzzling into you, content just to be close. He was still his silly, curious self, but he seemed to understand that things were a bit different now, and he was more than happy to be part of this new chapter. On one afternoon of the many days that had now blurred together as you were sitting on the sofa, Theo wiggled his way under your arm, pressing his face against your belly.

“Baby is in there. I cuddle, too.” Theo muffled, in his adorable, innocent voice. You laughed softly, your heart nearly bursting with joy at how naturally your babies had adjusted to the idea of a sibling. Teddy was particularly thrilled she was still going to be the only girl when she should out it was another boy. Very adamant that you and her were the only ‘Alszander Arnal girls’ as she would say.

“Yeah, sweetheart, baby is in mummy’s tummy. He’s so lucky to have a big brother like you.” You kissed the top of Theo’s head. “You’ll be a little brother and a big brother like how daddy is. You’re just like daddy, huh?” You cooed gently. Theo was gassed anytime he was told he was like Trent so he beamed hearing a new way he could be like him more so. Trent smiled looking on from the otherside of the couch with Teddy. He often found himself watching your family with a mixture of awe and gratitude. He was relieved and thankful that this pregnancy was going smoothly, but more than that, he was overwhelmed by the love and support that surrounded you. He’d never seen you happier or more at peace, and it was all thanks to the little family you’d built together. He got up from the couch plopping Teddy on the ground. He walked into the out of the room quickly and then returned back to you. Trent sat down beside you, wrapping one arm around you. His smile was warm and full of love as he handed you a box. 

“For mummy and our newest baby.” He said softly, his eyes sparkling with joy. Before you could even start opening it, Teddy quickly climbed up onto the sofa alongside Theo, both of their little hands reaching out. 

“Mama! Need helps with daddy’s present?” Teddy asked you, her eyes wide with excitement, while Theo nodded enthusiastically with her, liking the idea of getting to open a present whether or not it was for them or not. You couldn’t resist their enthusiasm. 

“Course, you can help me.” You laughed, handing the soft orange Hermès box in your lap over to them. They eagerly opened the lid with the kind of frenzied energy only children could muster, tissue paper flying everywhere. As an Avalon blanket was revealed, their faces quickly turned from excitement to confusion. 

“A blankie, mama?” Theo asked, clearly underwhelmed and confused. Teddy leaned over to get a better look inside and frowned slightly, not quite understanding it either. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at their innocence. 

“Yeah, it’s a really special blankie.” Trent explained gently followed by a chuckle, rubbing Theo's back with his condolences that it wasn't a more interesting gift in their opinion. “It’s not just any blankie though, lad. Daddy has given one of these extra special blankets to mummy every time we’ve had a little baby. One for Ted, one for Tees, and now one for our new baby so mummy can have a cozy cuddle with each of you.” Trent explained with a warm smile, his voice tender as he pulled Theo into his lap for said cuddle. Trent looked at the soft, luxurious cashmere fabric inside the box. The blanket was exquisite, as it always was, each time. The beautiful, soft cream color of baby number three’s was embroidered with your surname once again. It wasn’t just the blanket itself that made your heart swell; it was the tradition behind it, the thoughtfulness of Trent in keeping up this gesture for each child.

“Yeah, they're so special to mummy. I love these so much because I have one for each of my babies.” You cooed, kissing Teddy and Theo’s heads. “My little Baby Alexander-Arnolds.” Your voice quivered, getting emotional. As you gently lifted the blanket out of the box, you couldn’t hold back the tears that began to well up in your eyes. The reality of this new life growing inside you, the love Trent showed in his own unique way, and the excitement of sharing this tradition with your children — it was all so overwhelming in the best possible way. 

“Mama, tays?” Teddy asked worried after she noticed your tears first, looking up at you, concerned. Her small hand reaching out to touch your arm, scooting towards you on the seat. You nodded, sniffling through the tears. 

“Yeah, my Teddy bear. Thank you for asking. This is just so special to mummy. You Theo and daddy just make me really really happy that’s all.” You cooed softly struggling to get words out. Trent leaned in closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into a gentle embrace. 

“You’re everything to us, baby.” He tucked his face into the nape of your neck and whispered just to you, kissing your warm skin. Theo clumsily attempted to push Trent off your body to get to you. Trent laughed and let him move him. 

“I like blankie if make mama happy.” Theo softly explained adorably. Theo wrapped his arms around you best he could, still not quite understanding the gift but wanting anything to would make his mummy happy. He laid his head onto you with the intention to nuzzle impossibly further into you. 

“I like blankie too, mama. I like happy mama and I like um… our family.” Teddy told you, looking between you and Trent. Her sweet remark eliciting a real cry. You were so emotional and pregnant, you couldn’t help it. Trent breathily and sympathetically laughed at how sweet the past thirty minutes had been. He pulled you into his embrace once more, reaching out his arm to drag Teddy along as well. You held the blanket close to your chest, you let out a soft laugh amidst your tears, feeling the warmth of your family around you. As you nestled closer to Trent, you realized just how precious these moments were — how they formed the fabric of your family, much like the blanket that would soon wrap your newest child in love.

“Thank you, baby for everything you do for our family. You’re amazing, you know that?” Trent softly kissed your temple. His voice filled with love. “We love mummy so much, yeah?” Trent spoke out into the room. Teddy and Theo noddingtheir confirmation. You leaned into Trent, a content smile on your lips. 

“No, thank you. I couldn’t do it without you, T. I was really nervous at first, but now... it’s like everything is just falling into place.” You rested your head onto his shoulder. Trent kissed the top of your head, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief, gratitude, and happiness. As you sat on the couch, comfortably cradling your baby bump, he held you close, you watched Teddy and Theo move to go create some sort of game to play together on the carpet. This pregnancy was a gift, a calm amid the storm, and you couldn’t have felt more blessed. Your family was your greatest treasure, and you knew, no matter what. The future looked bright, and you were ready to embrace every moment of it. 

The closer you go to the end of the pregnancy the atmosphere in the house grew more expectant and filled with excitement. Winnie had come to visit, eager to help out and spend time with your family, her family. She loved her niece and nephew,  and couldn’t wait to meet the next addition. Tonight, she found herself curled up on the couch with Teddy, who was nestled in her arms. The soft glow of a living room lamp cast a warm light over them. Teddy’s sleepy eyes were fixed on a bedtime story Winnie was helping her read. George had just come over as well. He had stopped by to check on you and catch up with Trent but it was clear that Winnie’s presence was a pleasant surprise for him so he stuck around offering to help out. Theo welcomed his stay with open arms, squeals and giggles. George had always harbored feelings for Winnie, but he had kept them to himself, especially after hearing about her breakup about a year ago from Jadon. It wasn’t messy or bad per se, they just didn’t work. Winnie was finding she wanted more, Jadon had known he wanted less, no one wanted to compromise. Ultimately it might've been maybe more of a physically driven connection that lasted longer than they each expected but it was meant to end. George typically didn’t press about things but he genuinely cared for Winnie. Seeing her now, so close and yet so distant, stirred something in him. Later that evening, you and Trent had gone out to enjoy a quiet dinner together before your baby's arrival, thankful you could leave George and Winnie in charge of putting Teddy and Theo to bed. The house fell into a serene quietness once they had. With Teddy and Theo tucked in and the night settled, George and Winnie found themselves alone in the living room, the silence between them both comforting and charged with unspoken emotions. George leaned back in his chair, watching Winnie with a soft smile instead of the TV. 

“So, I haven’t had a chance to ask but how are you really doing, Win? I know it’s been a while since the breakup, but… you know, those things take time.” George asked Winnie gently, his voice low and sincere. He wanted to know, genuinely. Winnie sighed, her gaze drifting down to her hands in her lap a little embarrassed. She was well aware that George probably knew more about her breakup than she would have liked via you and Trent. 

“I’m doing okay, I guess. It’s honestly fine. It really is. It was meant to end. It’s just… I’m finding out I’m not so great at being alone. You know when you get out of a relationship and you just are sitting on a sofa and are thinking to yourself now what…” Winnie explained examining her manicure to not make eye contact but she flashed her eyes up to George to see if he did know what she was talking about. He did not. “Of course, you don’t.” Winnie laughed. “I’m just saying I miss a cuddle, you know? The intimacy of it all. But I’m learning to be okay with it. With it just being me.” Winnie softly admitted with a hint of sadness. You growing into a family of five and Winnie recently single really stung a lot. She felt it every time she entered her one bedroom apartment, she felt it everytime you facetimed her with Teddy and Theo. George’s heart tightened at her words. He had always admired her free spirit and independence, but he also knew how much she valued connection and affection. He wasn’t sure if Winnie even knew how much she needed that.

“I know you don’t need anyone but if you ever need a cuddle, I’m here.” He sheepishly told her with sincerity. “Just as a friend, you know.��� He clarified his offer hoping it wasn’t something Winnie would be taken back by. George sweetly looked at her. He meant it harmlessly, genuinely not trying to make a move. Winnie looked at him, surprised by his offer but not shocked by his kindness. Without thinking too much about it, she scooted closer to him on the sofa, allowing herself to lean into his side. George wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her gently, dragging her in closer. The warmth of his body against hers was comforting, and for a moment, they simply sat there in silence, enjoying the closeness. But as the seconds ticked by, something shifted. Winnie turned her head slightly, her eyes locking onto George’s. In that moment, caught in the tenderness of his gaze and the safety of his embrace, she felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to kiss him. She leaned in, her lips brushing his softly. George pulled back, a look of surprise and conflict on his face. He gently held her shoulders, creating a bit of space between them.

“Win, I’m sorry. You know I like you, I do. So much. I just can’t be a momentary comfort for you. Not for you. Please. Don’t do this to me.” George haphazardly spoke to her. He was soft but firm, his voice filled with emotion “You know I like you, Winnie.” He repeated to make it clear this wasn’t a rejection because he wasn’t interested. He was saying no because he was too interested. Winnie’s heart ached at his words, the realization of his deep feelings settling heavily in the room. She hadn’t meant to hurt him with her kiss; she just got caught up in the moment. 

“George, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. It’s just…” Winnie sighed, embarrassed. It was a rarity that she ever got rejected but this hurt a lot because she knew George liked her and it occurred to her that she had always liked him but purposely chose a more dangerous option time and time again. He didn’t need to say he did because if she was really honest with herself she’d known since she met him. “You know I’ve always found you attractive though. That wasn’t intended to be a momentary comfort.  I guess I didn’t know how to handle things before. I thought I wanted something else, but I was wrong. I know that now. I was just… I needed to mature, to understand what I really want in a man. And…sorry this is stupid.” Winnie paused, turning her head away from him feeling something she rarely felt, fear. George kept his eyes on her though. He reached out and cupped her cheek, turning her face back to him. Winnie took a deep breath. “I want you, George.” Winnie’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke. She was earnest, eyes wide with emotion. George’s breath hitched, his eyes searching hers for sincerity. He had hoped for this moment for so long but never imagined it would happen this way. He could see the honesty in her expression, the vulnerability she was showing. His grip on her softened, his fingers brushing her skin gently.

“Win..” George cautioned her. Of course, they had good chemistry but he didn’t want to mess things up. Not now. They were friends. “You're not just saying that or… just missing what you had?” His voice was full of hope but uncertainty. Winnie shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

“No, G. I mean it. I’ve realized that what I thought I wanted isn’t what I need. I want someone who truly cares about me, who’s kind, smart, and patient… but hot….someone like you.” She shyly smiled. George tried his absolute hardest not to grin at the complement. “I just was being ignorant before, and I’m sorry it took me so long. I don’t expect you to do anything. I don’t know. Now you know but I definitely understand why you..” Winnie tried to keep explaining that she accepted the rejection but George cut her off before she could go on.

“Shhh. Just shhh, Win.” George felt his heart swell with hope, a slow smile spreading across his face, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers before letting their lips collide eliciting a feeling neither of them expected. “I just want to be there for you, however you need.” George muttered trying to make sure they weren’t making a massive mistake before their lips drew together creating the perfect rhythm.

“You. That’s all I need.” Winnie whispered as her lips pulled off his as they curled into a smile, her hands moving to cup his face gently. The room had gone dark besides the glare of the tv on them. Their gaze on eachother was heated. Winnie’s eyes went even darker than room, lids gone heavy. This is what she was good at. She was confident now. Soon they were breathless in a makeout that was the best thing either had felt in a long while. This hook up had feelings behind it. Winnie moved from his lips and began kissing down him. George’s head fell back onto the sofa cushion. He’d thought about this alot. Winnie smirked, relishing in the sounds she was able to draw from someone who was normally so composed. When you and Trent got home unbeknownst to you things were heating up further in your living room. You went upstairs right away when you arrived back to check on Teddy and Theo. Trent on the other hand walked into quite the scene. He suddenly stopped when he heard George groan as Winnie gagged. Trent’s eyes widened and he spun on his heel immediately changing directions, running to find you. He literally almost physically ran into you on the stairs torn between the excitement and shock of his discovery.

“Is George like that?!” You asked Trent through a giggle as you both sat on your staircase after Trent relayed what he heard; George with a commanding ‘just like that’ had shocked you both. George was just so unassuming it caught you out. You stayed there not wanting to interrupt them but you also didn’t go upstairs yet. You were close enough to know what was going on but not close enough to gross yourself out and hear too much. 

“I don’t know! I’ve never like heard him, baby.” Trent looked at you like you were crazy for thinking Trent would know that type of information but then fell into a laugh when you started to giggle. You hid your face in Trent’s neck blushing at the entire situation.  “I feel like low key Winnie’s always held a torch and well we knew George did.” Trent kept talking and you agreed with both sentiments. As much as Winnie loved to say she wanted a bad boy, someone who liked to party, you knew Winnie preferred to be the wild one in a relationship and come home to someone to take care of her. After 20 minutes of you and Trent giggling, you got bored and just wanted to go upstairs and get up to your own antics. After an hour or so Trent received a text message from George asking if he could crash at the house. Trent laughed knowing what the incentive behind the text was but he played it off naively with a ‘course, mate.’ Needless to say George and Winnie were about to have themselves a good night in a guest room on your first floor. 

Late into that night or really it was well into the morning you stood in the dim kitchen, rummaging through the walk in pantry with a growing frustration. Your pregnancy cravings had been all over the place lately- craving crisps one minute, ice cream the next, and on some days, the distinct taste of Percy Pigs or the following day it’d be pepperoni. Tonight, your stomach growled with a hunger that couldn't quite be pinned down, making you even more restless. As you fumbled around in the dark, you heard soft footsteps behind you. The overhead kitchen light flicked on, casting a warm glow over the room. You turned to see Trent standing there, a soft sleepy smile playing on his lips.

"Number three keeping you up, pretty girl?" He asked, his voice thick with sleep. His eyes were gentle, full of that mix of concern and amusement he often had when he caught you in the midst of your midnight cravings. You gave a sheepish shrug, half-smiling. 

"I'm just... I don't know what I want," you admitted with a frown, still scanning the shelves as if the answer might suddenly appear in front of you. "I thought maybe some crisps, or maybe something sweet, but now I just... I'm not sure." You sighed. Trent chuckled softly and walked over to you, his bare feet padding quietly on the kitchen floor till her got to you wrapping his arms around you and gently swaying you back and forth in front of him. He let you go after a kiss to your cheek to go get himself a drink of water.

"Well, tell me what you fancy, and I'll help you find it." He offered. "Or I could go out and grab something for you." His offer was sincere, but you could see the sleepy haze still clinging to his features. You turned about to say no when you watched Trent as he stretched his arms above his head, a lazy, broad stretch that made the muscles in his chest and arms flex. Your gaze followed the movement, catching sight of his toned abs contracting and the waistband of his shorts dipping just low enough to reveal that tantalizing V shape that always drove you wild. Your mouth watered instantly, but not for anything in the pantry. A completely different craving took over, one that had nothing to do with food. You felt a sudden, undeniable pull toward him, your body reacting instinctively to the sight of him standing there, half-asleep yet effortlessly sexy. "Actually..." you dragged out the words, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper as you turned to face him fully. "I think I've just figured out exactly what I want." You cooed with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Trent's sleepy smile turned into a knowing grin as he caught the change in your tone and that look in your eyes. 

"Oh yeah?" He asked, stepping back to you, his voice low and teasing. "And what might that be, beautiful?" He gave you a devastatingly handsome smirk. You reached out, fingers grazing his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your touch. 

"You," you said simply, letting your hand trail down his torso, fingers dancing over the firm lines of his stomach. Trent's grin widened, his eyes darkening with a mixture of amusement and desire. 

"Well, I can help you satisfy that craving.," he murmured, stepping even closer until his body was almost flush against yours. He dipped his head down, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. You melted into him, your craving for food completely forgotten as you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.Trent's hands moved to your waist, pulling you against him, his grip firm and possessive. His mouth moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, and you couldn't help but moan softly into the kiss. His lips left yours and traveled to your neck, planting soft, teasing kisses along your skin. "You know, baby." He murmured between kisses. "If you keep waking me up like this, we're going to have to invest in some midnight snacks of a different kind." Trent whispered. You laughed softly, but the sound quickly turned into a sigh of pleasure as his hands slid under the hem of your shirt, fingers tracing the curve of your back. When you groaned, his heart leapt in his throat while simultaneously his dick hardened in his shorts. 

"Maybe I just have a taste for you, Trent Alexander-Arnold." You whispered, tugging him closer.Trent pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with that familiar spark of playful mischief. 

"Then let's make sure Trent Alexander-Arnold’s wife is satisfied." He said, his voice low and teasing, sending another thrill through your body. His hands glided over the curve of your ass. He lifted you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, his mouth finding yours again in a deep, hungry kiss. As his hands began to explore your body with a slow, deliberate intensity, you knew that this was one craving that wouldn't go unsatisfied tonight. “Can you be a good girl and be quiet f’me?” He cooed as he pulled out a chair at your kitchen island to take a seat in front of you. You nodded as he pulled your legs apart as you sat on the marble countertop. You slid one foot down the cold surface spreading your legs further apart for him  “Did I ever tell you how fucking much I love our kitchen.” Trent spoke quietly, not looking at the kitchen at all. He moved to place a feather light kiss onto your ankle working them up your leg, purposefully skipping over where you wanted him most, continuing down your other leg.  Subconsciously, your thighs widened more for him. You whined desperate for him but very aware that he was not going to let you close your legs now. You complained about his playful kisses, feeling a deep desire building within you, heat radiating to your core as your arousal intensified and your clit began to pulse. The gentle brush of his stubble against your bare skin was utterly sensual. “Such a good girl f’me always so wet, baby.” His eyes lit looking at your glistening pussy. He was quick to place his thumb over your clit, rubbing it gentle circles keeping his eyes locked on you. Trent wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled your core to his face. He dragged his middle and index fingers through your folds and then dragging his tongue in his wake making your head drop back. He moved his perfect plump lips to focus on your clit as he gently slid his index finger into your warm, wetness, groaning at how turned on you were. You stifled a moan as the feeling of just one of his fingers inside you ignited your desire. His tongue danced around your clit, teasing and licking the area, deliberately steering clear of the exact spot you craved his mouth the most. You tried to arch your hips off the cold countertop beneath you desperate to find more fiction. Trent grunting attempting to reprimand you as his arm laid across your hips holding you down. He knew you were growing impatient. He added another finger, and then another, moving and furling in and out of your throbbing pussy. He flattened his tongue against your clit. 

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You groan and tried to stifle your words. Trent tried to shush you but couldn’t help his laughter just vibrating against you only amplifying your pleasure. You inhaled sharply. You knew he was holding back on you because when he got into it an you weren’t trying to muffles the sounds of his impromptu late night kitchen eats from Winnie and George from hearing, he could ravish you like you were his favorite meal. His lips sucked on your bud and parted your folds with his tongue, the tip frantically teasing you mercilessly, circling as his finger pumped in and out, hitting the spot he knew would have you reeling and moaning your name. “T… I can’t! Oh my god.” You whined but Trent was quick to try to lessen the noise he was evoking from you. His arm across your hips moved to bring his hand up to your mouth, seamlessly and sexily.  When his lips closed around your clit, sucking on it, you became a begging mess.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He muffled into you smug as can be.Trent loved to find himself in between your thighs, lapping his tongue through your folds. Hearing and feeling you falling apart on his tongue was the best trophy he could ever win. You were clenching uncontrollably around his fingers as his sucked on your clit with just enough pressure. “Cum f’me, baby. Cum now.” He demanded quietly as you felt your thighs begin to quiver. In low warm lights sprawled from Trent in your quiet kitchen your back arched as you fell into an earth shattering orgasm courtesy of the man who would always take care of you. You twitched as he dragged out your high. The risk of being caught out fucking in your kitchen at god knows what hour of the morning had you feeling unreal. He moved from sucking at your sensitive throbbing clit before he dragged his tongue back through your folds lewdly slurping the slick from your pussy. He kept his fingers thrusting inside of you, going a little slower as he worked kisses up your body. His lips on your neck, the slick on your skin and post orgasmic feeling sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Can you give me one more?” Trent asked you, desperate for more of you and you weren’t going to be the one to deprive him of that.  Hell, he had come all the way downstairs to help with your midnight snack. You were ready for him to fuck you on this counter so you could wipe it down after and happily hand him his breakfast on it tomorrow. He gently laid you back against the marble. He kissed your jawline up before bringing you into a passionate kiss. You sat up on your forearms as he cupped your face.

“Fuck me, T, please,” you begged, sounding some how even more desperate then before. His cock twitched hearing your voice. You blinked up at Trent with doe eyes after your orgasm continued to linger. He pulled his hard cock out stroking it and teasingly dragging the tip through your folds as he pulled you into another steamy kiss. You whined, unable to wait any longer. He lifted your hips a little for him to push into you both of you gasping in a breath. He slid his hand up your body up to your exposed tits. Trent's eyes glazed over seeing your tits bounce as you laid back for him as you whined out. His big hands slid up your body coming to play with your hard nipples. You hiccuped a little as he picked up the pace, hitting deeper, drilling into both of you fighting your hardest to bite back the moans you were dying to let out. 

“God, I fucking  love you, baby, so much.” He was able to get out a strained whisper, feeling the warm pulsations as he eased in and out of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, dragging your heels down his muscular back. Your body was being rocked against the surface beneath you when Trent slipped his fingers into your mouth. Flustered by his pace you gaged around them, drooling, sucking desperately before he dragged them down to rub perfect circles on your clit.

“You’re gonnna make me cum. Please T. Just like that. Please baby.” You begged him as the knot in your stomach tightened just before it snapped. You clenched tighter around his throbbing cock. He took his fingers off your clit as he leaned forward to kiss you.

“Yeah? I make you feel so good, huh? You love cumming on my cock, beautiful. Look so good cumming for me. I’m gonna fucking cum, hmm?” You nodded desperately. His cock twitching deep inside you seconds before he came, painting your insides, filling you up. “I know, baby, I know,” he mumbled, silencing you with a kiss. You whimpered at his words, your walls clenching around him as if your body understood what he wanted as he voiced it.Your eyes squeezed closed, a whimpered moan accidentally escaping you lips. You knew it was just as hard for him to stay quiet too. Honestly, this was as quiet as you two probably could get, so it was impressive that you both had to manage to pull it off.

The kitchen then was filled with quiet, post-craving giggles as you and Trent tried to compose yourselves. Your bodies were still pressed close together, both of you breathless and flushed from your late-night adventure. Every time you made eye contact, another wave of laughter threatened to spill out, and you had to bite your lip to stifle it. Trent pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Shhh,” you whispered, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “We’ve got to be quiet, or Winnie and George will hear us.” Trent chuckled softly, his warm breath tickling your cheek.

 “You’re the one who couldn’t keep quiet,” he teased, his voice a low murmur. He pulled you even closer, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, comforting embrace. “But I’m not complaining,” he added, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Stop! You made it hard to be quiet.,” you replied, your smile widening as you leaned into his warmth. Despite your teasing words, there was nothing but love in your voice. You swayed gently in his arms, moving in a slow, lazy rhythm as if you were still caught in the afterglow of your midnight rendezvous. You exchanged a few whispered “I love you’s,” each one filled with the depth of your affection and the quiet joy of this stolen moment together.Eventually, Trent helped you off the counter, his hands lingering on your waist as you both reluctantly pulled away.

“Come on,” he whispered, giving you a soft, playful nudge. “We should get back to bed. You need rest after all that” He cheekily told you. You nodded, still grinning as you slipped your hand into his, letting him guide you back to your bedroom. The two of you tiptoed down the hall, stifling giggles every step of the way, feeling like mischievous teenagers sneaking around in your own home. The next morning, the house was filled with the comforting smell of breakfast. You were at the stove, humming softly to yourself as you flipped pancakes, a content smile on your lips. You were ready to tease Winnie about her own evening, eager to see her reaction. Trent sat at the kitchen table, entertaining Teddy and Theo with stories while they waited for their food. Just as you were about to make a cheeky comment, Winnie strolled into the kitchen, George trailing behind her. She stretched her arms above her head with an exaggerated yawn and then dramatically dropped them, smirking at Teddy and Theo. 

“Did mummy and daddy wake anyone else up last night?” she asked, her tone teasing. Teddy’s eyes went wide with curiosity, and Theo, ever the observant one, scrunched his nose in confusion. 

“Wake ups?” Teddy echoed, looking between you and Trent. “Whys? What doing last night?” She asked slightly worried she had potentially missed out on something. You felt your cheeks heat up instantly, a burst of laughter escaping you. 

“Winnie!” you exclaimed, trying to sound scolding, but failing miserably as you started to laugh. Trent chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up from the table. He walked over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. Winnie just grinned, clearly enjoying herself. She winked, making her way over to the table to sit down.

“Nothing, cute girl. Did you sleep okay?” Winnie cooed, dragging Teddy into her lap who nodded her answer. George laughed.  As you served breakfast, you couldn’t help but shoot a playful glare in Winnie’s direction, but the smile on your face never wavered. It was just another morning filled with love, laughter, and a little bit of teasing—exactly the way you liked it.

Another night came, this one without Winnie and George. It had passed Teddy and Theo’s bedtime, it was approaching yours. The house was finally quiet. The kids were asleep in their rooms, the soft hum of the baby monitor the only sound breaking the silence. You and Trent were getting into bed, the glow of two bedside lamps casting a warm light over you both. It was one of those rare moments of calm where you could just be together, without the usual chaos of family life. Trent had been quiet for a while, his arm around you as you leaned into his side, your head resting against his shoulder as you scrolled on your phone. You could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body grounding you. He turned slightly, and you felt him shift so he could look at you more directly, you hadn’t noticed that he had been staring at you the whole time. There was something in his eyes—an intensity, a depth of emotion—that made your heart skip a beat.

 “YN, I need to tell you something.” Trent softly muttered out. His voice filled with emotion. Trent had been watching you closely all evening, his eyes filled with a tenderness that was impossible to miss. He took a deep breath, his hand finding yours beneath the blanket, and gently squeezed. You turned to face him, your heart suddenly aware of the seriousness in his tone. 

You looked at him, a little puzzled but intrigued, sensing the depth in his tone. Trent took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words. “I just… I don’t think I tell you enough how much you mean to me.  Every single day, I watch you with our kids, the way you care for them, love them, teach them… and I’m just in awe. You’ve given me this beautiful family, a life I didn’t even know I could or wanted to have.” His words struck a chord deep within you, and you felt your throat tighten with emotion. Trent reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender. “Lately, I’ve been thinking back to when we first started this whole thing… this relationship. I was so nervous, so unsure of not how much I loved you but if I was good enough for you. But you… you bought in. You took a chance on me, and it changed my life. You changed my life, YN.” Trent’s voice broke slightly. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. He squeezed your hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “I don’t know where I’d be without you. I don’t even want to think about it. Because with you… with our kids… I have everything. I have a home, a family, a love that’s deeper than anything I ever imagined. And it’s all because of you. You make me a better man, a better father. I’m so thankful, every single day, that you’re mine.” The tears spilled over, and you couldn’t help but smile through them, overwhelmed by the depth of his love. He shifted closer, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he gathered his thoughts. His eyes were misty, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and concern. "Just thank you, baby for trying so hard to persevere. I know it hasn't been easy, dealing with everything you've gone through... your struggles. I can't imagine how hard it's been for you, but I just want you to know how proud I am of you." He cooed gently. You felt a lump form in your throat, the sincerity of his words hitting you deep. Trent reached out, cupping your cheek with his hand, his gaze unwavering and filled with love. "All I could ever want is for you to see yourself the way I see you. I wish you could see the way our babies look at you, baby. The way their faces light up when they see the most beautiful mummy in the whole world. They adore you, YN. They see you as this stunning, loving, strong woman who means everything to them… just like I do." 

“T…” You whimpered, unable to get anything else out. You weren't prepared for this monologue. Tears were streaming down your face at this point. His words wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. Trent's own eyes were glistening, his emotions raw and open.

"God, I love you so much. Sometimes I still can’t believe how lucky I got, meeting you by chance in New York. How you kept talking to me, even though I was just some lad from across the ocean. I can’t believe you took a chance on me, on us. That you flew all the way to England just to visit me... it feels like a dream sometimes.” Trent babbled with a trembling voice. Frankly you always thought it was more insane he gave you the chance so your pouty lips curled a little bit of smile. He paused, his voice catching in his throat as he struggled to find the words. You could see the depth of his feelings in his eyes, the love and gratitude that overflowed from him. "I’m so incredibly grateful for you, YN. For everything you’ve done, everything you are. You’re the strongest person I know, and I just… I want you to see that. I want you to feel that. Because you are everything to me, to them. Everything." He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he took a shaky breath. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, his words lingering in the air between you.

"Trent, I… I love you too. So much. More than I can even say." Tears continued to stream down your face. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close as the tears fell freely. Trent held you tightly, his embrace firm and full of love. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and reassuring.

“I will always, always take care of you and our family. You have my heart forever, baby. I’m here and I’m yours and they’re ours. Always” Trent whispered against your hair. In his arms, you felt a sense of peace, a calm that only his presence could bring. You knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you had each other. And that was more than enough.

“T, I… I don’t even know what to say. You’ve given me so much. You gave me a life I actually wanted. You are my best friend, my confidant, my partner in everything. I love you so much.” You hiccuped through the words as he pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours as he closed his eyes, savoring the moment.

“I love you more than anything in this world, YN. More than words could ever say. Thank you for everything. For being the mother of our children, for being my partner, my best friend. For being you.” He whispered, echoing you. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be—loved deeply and completely by the man who meant everything to you.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the series. 🐑 🤍

Part 3 out now |The Final

[bonefall]

Is Sandgorse still abusive in BB? If so does he still save Sparrow? Idk I think it'd be a neat thing for Talltail to brood on and move past once realizing the truth. Like just because your abuser did a "Good Thing tm" doesn't mean you have to forgive them or that all of a sudden it excuses their past a tion towards you.

Or did you remove this plot beat entirely? If so I don't blame you :P

Weird that Tumblr search isn't giving me all the stuff I tagged :/ hopefully after finals are done I can compile a 1st draft/The Story So Far for the rework of Tallstar’s Revenge

It's now called TALLSTAR’S COLLAPSE. It is actually a story I am rewriting with tragedy in mind. It's about Talltail fleeing WindClan with his starcrossed lover, Sparrow, only to eventually be drawn back to it where he becomes a perpetuator of all the things that made him leave.

To answer your question; Yes, and. Sandgorse is abusive and there's a LOT of nuance to this situation. I'm not sure if he still saves "Sparrow" though because I have waaaay more of a point in mind with Tallstar’s tumultuous relationship to him.

Summary of changes,

Tallstar's Collapse

Sparrow is the Clanmew name Jake takes when his group interacts with WindClan. His first language is actually a dialect of Townmew!

(Also Firestar has no known father in BB)

His group is nomadic. They go from place to place trading goods. I need a name for both them and their cultural "cluster" but in my head, Jake's family is the Algernauts because Algernon is the current leader

It's important the Algernauts are extremely endearing because leaving them is VERY painful

(and something i want to frame as the wrong choice for tallstar, emotionally)

WindClan is in a very sensitive period of its history. Before Tallstar was born, Heatherstar began the Mothermouth Moorland War, to take a very large parcel of land from ShadowClan. A good 1/5th of it.

Naturally this is a huge project and incredibly ambitious. Sacrifices Must Be Made

The sacrifice she has chosen to make is the death of tunneling. Because she's smothering it.

Tunneling is PEACEFUL, defensive at best. You can't dig them in a floodplain, they would be useless for holding the Mothermouth Moorland territory

Tallkit is born into a terrible position. Son of the head tunneler, mother in a terrible depression, and Heatherstar trying to pry a wedge between the "future" and the "past"

Im also planning to change his name. He was born Slowworm-Kit, which has a connotation of cleverness in Clanmew. To bully him, Shrewpaw calls him Wormtail, because Slowworms drop their tails if pulled. It means "you will get trapped in a cave-in, and when they pull your tail, it'll fall off"

But it doesn't translate well into English... so I'm not sure what his Heatherstar-given warrior name would be. Wormwing or Wormleap maybe, like he "defied fate" to become a wonderful moor-runner...

Or maybe the prefix is Drop? Droptail as the mean bully name and Dropflight as the warrior name...

Anyway, when he returns, Heatherstar welcomes back the extra claws and honors the lesson he learned with "Talltale." In Clanmew this is "Story-travelled," his leader name meaning "Tale-star."

Anyway. Back to the cat drama

Talltail (name pending) is in a tight spot. I kind of want to show everyone being a victim except Heatherstar herself, who has all the power in this situation.

Not that it excuses anyone

Sandgorse is watching something he loves dying, an ancient tradition passed down for generations. He is trying to force his son into a position he shouldn't HAVE to occupy, but his child is the one thing he might have any control over

(Until Tall breaks it ofc)

Tallpaw was just a kid. He needed to take out his bullying and the stress on something, and that was usually his mother and the concept of tunneling

Palebird has been completely neglected by her mate as he focuses on the person he WANTS his kid to be. She NAMED a Fading Kit, a serious social taboo, and even the support of the nursery and Woolytail can't pull her out before Tall's kithood is over

Heatherstar is using Tallpaw as a political pawn and Tallpaw is too young and hurt to realize it. He was given to her sister, Dawnstripe, and endlessly praised for his skill and talent in a time where he NEEDED positive feedback

Which is making his relationships with his parents worse

All the while, there's VIOLENCE. Regular raids and counterstrikes. Cats die and get injured, and it only escalates as Tall gets older and Cedarstar is reaching the end of his lives, hoping to end the conflict before then

And in all this chaos and uncertainty, there comes Sparrow.

Just a trader and an honored guest, there's been lots of these nomadic visitors since the time of Windstar herself, but they've become quite rare.

When Sandgorse dies suddenly in that collapse (TITLE DROP) Talltail has the push he finally needs. It's too much. He can't process this

Sparrow begs him to leave with them, they don't even need to confront anyone, just come!

IF IT SUCKS HIT DA BRICKS

I have tons of really nice little things planned for this part of the story. It's several chapters of Talltail being free.

He engages in the funeral rites of Wee Hen, asking if he may sit vigil for her. His new family is honored to allow it, Reena even tries to do it too and falls asleep

(Little sister energy)

They meet all sorts of people and go to many places. Talltail learns that the world is vast, and there's an endless amount of knowledge out here.

It all starts crashing down when him and Jake find a litter of abandoned kittens, and become parents.

They're a few moons old.. around the same age as his halfsibs back home.

It starts bringing back memories. He wonders how they're doing. If they made a nice grave for Sandgorse...

The sudden longing for his own mother strikes him like lightning.

For the first time in eons, he feels GUILT over leaving. He thought it was over-- he's living his own life now!

But what if they're hurt? What if there was a battle and he couldn't help? What if his mentor died and he didn't even know?

What kind of a horrible son doesn't even say goodbye?

The problems that made him leave seem so small now, and the homesickness is like acid leaking from his stomach, dissolving his guts and leaving him hollow

He's raising kits who will never know what it means to earn a title, or have a permanent home, or--

(Any of the other things he should have learned don't have meaning outside of clan culture. Things they wouldn't miss.)

He cherishes the memories he makes here, raising children with his mate, but something turns inside of Talltail. Like the groaning ache of a hundred stones on top of a decaying mineshaft

The REAL collapse is this. An existential crisis Talltail can't escape from.

And eventually, it comes tumbling down with one last, horrible nightmare.

In his dream, he came home only to find the sandy camp abandoned, the dens decrepit, full of musty scent and cobwebs.

Sandgorse was there. And they talked.

His dad was gruff as always, disappointed. But he didn't say anything the real Sandgorse would say.

The nightmare said, "You really did turn out like me. We both left your mother when she needed us. Turned our backs on our leader. And now we're both dead to WindClan."

Tall wakes up crying. Jake is there to comfort him, but the conversation they have is sad.

Jake tries to tell him that's all not true, and even if it WAS his dad, his dad sucked and would only say that to hurt him!

But... Tall can't believe it. Jake's right but also wrong. He IS all those horrible things.

And...... how can jake ever Understand? He does not know the Bonds of a Clan cat

(thought terminating cliche. Outsiders Cant Understand Our Bonds.)

He stays a few more days, but that nightmare was the end. And everyone sees the change.

The kits are apprentice-aged. He stayed until they would be old enough to keep up with the Algernauts.

And he says goodbye. He won't ever leave without saying goodbye ever again.

Jake says it doesn't have to be goodbye, he'll always love him, and they can visit! They can see each other again!

And Tall says yes. That this isn't the end. It's... see you later, my love.

(...but they both know how violent it's getting between Wind and Shadow. It isn't safe to visit.)

It is the end. But neither can admit it.

But after Tall is a fair distance away, one of his kits tackles him.

POSSIBLY Post-Tallstar's Collapse

Not sure if I'd put these in a novella or still make it part of it, but these are all directly related to the fallout of Tallstar's Collapse

Most likely is that there would be overlap between this and Brokenstar's Cataclysm, so the same events would be seen in different perspectives.

The kit's name is Fly. Tall has to wait for him to catch his breath and stop crying before they can talk.

Fly already lost parents before. He says he knows he can't make his dads stay together, "But PLEASE, papa, let me choose where I go this time!"

How could he say no? How could he send his son away after a plea like that?

He told him it would be hard. That he would be trained. That there would be dangerous fights.

Fly didn't care, he said he could be strong. He could do anything he needed to.

So... Tall took him to WindClan, where he became Flypaw. He became the warrior he promised he would be.

And Tall didn't notice how much the kid was changing until it was too late. Flytail took to it as if he was Clanborn-- but had to work twice as hard, fight thrice as viciously.

Though Talltail was graced with an Honor Title and open arms, he'd adopted his greatest rival.

Fly and Tall started competing for deputyship as soon as they finished training apprentices; Heatherstar had a fondness for the two of them.

In the end, Talltail won the spot by springing into action and saving Heatherstar's young nephew, a little golden tabby, from an adder.

Flytail continued as one of the more aggressive warriors in the Clan, surviving increasingly violent and bitter battles, until it came to a head in Heatherstar's Last Stand.

Her final battle as an old leader was a gruesome, definitive curbstomp in the last strategic point ShadowClan held above Carrionplace.

One of the losses was Lizardstripe-- neck snapped in Flytail's jaws.

Runningnose, and by extension, the oak-tree to his long-shadow, Brokentail, remembered this. Especially when Runningnose's father Mudfoot collapsed later that year.

As Talltail took leadership from the dying Heatherstar, a familiar regretful guilt wormed into his belly.

His son Flytail stood with a bloody mouth, eyes wet with sorrow, looking down at the leader Talltail once loved almost as much. Appreciating her sacrifice.

(secretly he didnt choose Deadfoot as his deputy just for his honor title or the battle move he invented... he chose him because there was a shocked, sorrowful look in his eyes at the fallen shadowclan cat. Sympathy seems more honorable in this moment.)

Tallstar is a wise leader... but his fatal flaw is naivety. How could he think he'd bring his son into WindClan, and not see the boy grow into a ferocious Warrior?

And naivety is what he displayed when he offered Raggedstar a peace deal. WindClan would keep the land, but they would pay a small tax of rabbits over the winter.

It was unprecedented. It was merciful. It was stupid.

When the winter was over, what would stop them from pushing further south?

Would they trade back the frogs and the flax, come summer?

On the blood and bones of so many warriors? As if giving up was ever an option?

Brokentail killed his father to prevent him from taking the deal, and reawakened Ripplestar's War Tactics.

BURN the peat. KILL the prey. OFFENSE is defense. A dead warrior is 10 less claws. A dead apprentice is 1 less warrior.

Stolen kittens are 1 more warrior on your own side.

Tallstar paid the ultimate price for letting Flytail follow him home that day. On the night of the massacre, Flytail went down fighting alongside a mate and a daughter. Dogpiled by Tangleburr and her squadron in revenge for Lizardstripe and Mudfoot.

Tallstar's granddaughter Stoneclaw, made a warrior and sitting for her vigil on that night, was the sole survivor of the little family.

The event stopped her from speaking again, like she's still sitting vigil.

Tallstar is a character who almost broke free of the control of the Clans. For a brief moment of his life, he was free.

He thought maybe he could change things a little, protect his Clanmates from the battles by being part of them, have the Mothermouth Moorland and protect the peace at the same time. But you CAN'T.

You can't fix broken systems without fundamentally changing them. He thought he could be a nice warlord and that would work on the Clan whose territory he had inherited. Power acts through people just as much as they act through power.

And that's Tallstar. He who travels the world, yet is never able to go far enough. Always falling just a little short of the point, believing that love and mercy is enough while blissfully ignorant of the pressures of pride and power.

Into this role, as a successor to this leader, Onestar is unwillingly thrust.

[woolysstuff]

"Bit pathetic, isn't it?"

Thumbnail art undercut

[tsuutarr]

Finally found someone who does Pokemon Sun and moon too...

can I request a fluff interaction of a male farmer who herds Wooloo and Kiawe has a heavy crush on him but doesn't know what to do? Until the reader lost a couple wooloo who stumbled in Kiawe's farm and causing a small ruckus because they're just scared sheep!

Kiawe helps out and finally ends up talking to the sweet farmer boy??

it's fine if the reader can be GN if you don't do male readers! :)

(this is such a cute prompt!! I love farmer! readers so much haha + Wooloos are so stinkin' cute! Also, I ended up not using any gender indicators so this fic came out pretty gender neutral I think? It wasn't intentional, but I hope that's okay!)

Pairing: Kiawe x gn! reader

Word count: 1438

It all started when Kiawe’s mother asked him to deliver a welcoming gift to the new farmer who had just moved to Alola from Galar. Kiawe agreed because he wanted to welcome the new farmer to Alola – it isn’t easy moving across regions, after all. So, with the determination of a friendly neighbor, Kiawe made the trip to his neighbor’s farm.

What he didn’t expect, however, was a round Pokémon barreling into him. Thanks to Kiawe’s active lifestyle, he was able to keep his ground, but when he looked down, he saw a Pokémon that he’d never seen before. Still, looking at the cute eyes of the wooly Pokémon made Kiawe’s heart melt. The Pokémon bleated at Kiawe, looking confused.

“Don’t worry,” Kiawe said, patting the Pokémon on its head. “I’ll help you find your Trainer–”

“Sorry! That’s my Wooloo!”

At the sudden appearance of the new person, Kiawe blinked owlishly, looking up and making eye contact with the cutest person he had ever seen. 

“You little rascal– why do you always run off like that?” you scolded your Pokémon who bleated at you as if it had done nothing wrong. You sighed, shaking your head, before turning to Kiawe and offering him a gloved hand. “Hey there! Nice to meet you! I just moved here recently.”

“I– yeah,” Kiawe cleared his throat, before thrusting the gift in his hands into your outstretched one. “My… family runs the farm over there. We thought we’d welcome you.” Though usually stoic and calm, Kiawe was having a hard time formulating words.

“Ah, I see! Thanks, that’s so kind of you– oh, wait here, I have something to give you back!” you gave him a smile that blinded him because of how charming it was. “Now c’mon, Wooloo. Let’s go back to the herd.”

Your Wooloo bleated at you as it followed you back to your farm. Kiawe was only broken out of his stupor once you were a considerable distance away from him. Oh Arceus, what was that? Kiawe inhaled, before letting out a deep groan. You were just so cute? And charming? Kiawe needed to get control of himself.

So, while he waited for you to return, he steeled his mind, reciting battle tactics and dance moves to try and recover. Unfortunately, all his efforts were in vain because as soon as you appeared before him again, his mind blanked out.

“Here!” you offered him a bag with various crops and Wooloo wool. “These are some things native to Galar! I hope you enjoy them.”

Kiawe took the bag from you, gave you a nod, and began to walk away.

“I’ll see you around!” you yelled, making him stop in his tracks.

Kiawe turned around to face you, said, “Sure,” and kept walking away.

Now, about three months later, Kiawe cringes every time he thinks of his interaction with you. He’s been nervous before, but he’s never been as tongue-tied as he has been around you. But that barely excuses how embarrassingly he acted around you. Sometimes, in the middle of battles or dancing, he’ll mess up because he’ll remember how cringey he acted that day. You probably thought he was a weirdo and he can’t do anything about it.

He genuinely doesn’t know how to approach you. Sure, he helps out at his family’s farm sometimes, but he’s usually more focused on dancing and Pokémon battles so he doesn’t have that many chances to interact with you. Besides that, he feels like he’ll totally do something stupid again because you’ll smile at him with the warmth of a thousand Torkoals. 

With a sigh, he continues stacking hay bales for his family’s Milktanks and Tauroses. As Kiawe is about to wrap up his work, he hears a moo in the distance, and then a bleat.

Wait. A bleat?

Kiawe turns around to see one of his Tauros pawing the ground to get ready to charge a group of Wooloo. 

“Milktank!” Kiawe calls, and the smart cow Pokémon knows exactly what to do, rolling into a rollout to smack into Tauros’ side. The bull Pokémon topples over, giving Kiawe enough time to approach the huddled sheep Pokémon. “Hey, it’s okay,” Kiawe soothes the three scared Wooloo, kneeling in front of them and stretching out a hand. “I’ll take you back to your Trainer, okay?”

The Wooloo don’t respond, shivering against each other, until one Wooloo recognizes Kiawe. It approaches Kiawe carefully and sniffs his hand, before nuzzling it.

“There, that’s it,” Kiawe says. The friendliness of their friend helps the other Wooloo calm down slightly, despite being in unfamiliar farmland. “And Tauros, I’m grateful you’re always vigilant about intruders, but you can’t go around charging at every Pokémon you don’t recognize,” Kiawe scolds, standing up to face the Tauros. 

The Tauros, helped up by Miltank, snorts out an apology.

“As long as you understand–”

“Wooloo!”

At your voice, Kiawe basically freezes.

“You’ve had me so scared!” you scold as you approach the fence gating Kiawe’s farm. “How do you keep escaping and winding up in places like this?!”

The Wooloo all bleat apologetically, before moving to huddle behind Kiawe and push him towards you as a shield.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you say, and Kiawe does everything in his power to not combust.

“Don’t apologize,” he says simply, keeping his tone has flat as possible. “They almost got attacked by my family’s Tauros, so I should be the one apologizing.”

“No, don’t say that! My Wooloo rolled into your farm, so no wonder Tauros was frightened.” With a sigh, you beckon your Wooloo over with a pecha berry, luring them away with a sweet treat. “C’mon, you rascals. Let’s get you back home.”

Kiawe panics because he hasn’t seen you in months but somehow, you’ve gotten a lot cuter since then. Not to mention that he basically doesn’t get to talk to you, so this is probably his only chance to talk to you again unless your Wooloo decides to cause a ruckus again three months from now. At the thought, Kiawe huffs out a small laugh, making you peer at him curiously. He can feel himself flush in embarrassment at your attention. “Ah, I was just thinking that we always seem to talk because of your Wooloo.”

“That’s true,” you laugh, patting one of your Wooloo on its head. “I have a Yamper to help, but he’s just too spoiled to do any herding, I guess. Maybe if he evolved into a Bolthund, it’d be easier.”

“Well, if you need help, I can help train your Pokémon,” Kiawe offers, his desire to help you outweighing his nervousness. “I’m a trial captain here so I know my way around training.”

“Oh, that’d be lovely, actually!” you beam. “I couldn’t trouble you, though.”

“It’s no trouble,” Kiawe says, earnestly.

“Hm… But I can’t just take from you, really,” you murmur. “Ah, I know! Why don’t I treat you to some curry? It’s a staple in Galar.”

“Oh.” The nerves hit Kiawe at full force, and he can feel his palms get sweaty and his mind swims. He wants to take you up on your offer desperately, but he’s worried that he’ll intrude. Not to mention the fact that he might look like a complete doofus!

“It was just an offer,” you quickly say once you see his wide-eyed look of surprise. “Don’t worry about it, actually.”

“No, I want to!” Kiawe says hastily, a lot louder than he intended. “I just don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding,” you assert. “I’m offering because I’m very grateful you’re willing to help me train my Yamper.” With a grin, you pull out a notepad and pen from your back pocket and write down your number. “Here, how about you text me? Let’s talk about it over the phone and we can set a proper date. And well, you can always come find me at my farm!”

Kiawe swallows. “Sounds good.”

“Great!” you beam, before turning to your Wooloo. “Now, come on, you little rascals, let’s go home.”

They bleat at you in unison, but don’t put up much of a fight as you herd them away.

“See you!” you exclaim as you walk away.

“Yeah– see you!” Kiawe responds, heart still beating erratically. Wow, well, that went better than expected. From beside him, his Milktank nudges him, giving him a thumbs-up (or at least, as much of a thumbs-up a Pokémon with hooves can give). He inhales deeply, trying to calm himself down, but for the next few hours, all he can do is grin, making his family all shoot him curious glances.

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Our New Friend!

Last chapter:

Riley finds this tape hidden inside a Wooly plushy, which randomly explodes when the puzzle is complete. Riley should find this concerning, but their brain is filled with nothing but curiosity. They go ahead and play the tape. 

“Hey friends, I’m Amanda!” Amanda says, with her usual smile and wave.  

“And I’m Wooly!” Wooly beams, as usual.

“And today…” Amanda pulls out a piece of paper and stares at it for a while with a sad look on her face. “Today… we got a letter from one of our friends at home…” On further inspection, Riley notices that this letter looks very old. Even if it was a viewer-sent letter, it was sent a long time ago. “It’s from our friend Ruthie. Dear Amanda and Wooly, I have just moved to a new place and I’m going to be starting over at a brand new school. I won’t know anyone there. I’ve known my old friends all my life and I’m not sure how to make new ones, can you help me?” 

“Oh yeah, starting fresh in a new place can be scary.” Wooly laughs nervously. 

“Good thing we can’t go anywhere.” Amanda scoffs, rolling her eyes. 

“Amanda, this girl really needs our advice.” Wooly protests. 

“Wooly, this letter was sent over ten years ago, this girl probably doesn’t even go to school anymore!” Amanda shouts before quietly saying: “If she’s even… still alive…” Wooly becomes quiet as well. 

“How… do you make friends?” Wooly wonders out loud. 

“Huh?” 

“Well it’s just… you're the only friend I’ve had for… years.” 

“And it wasn’t really by choice.” Amanda adds. Wooly looks down at his feet and gently kicks a little piece of litter completely avoiding eye contact. “Alright Ruthie, we’re not the best people to ask on this topic but we can show you how it’s done! First, let’s head to the toy store!” 

“Why the toy store?” 

‘To look for a new friend, silly.” Amanda replies. “Can you tell me where that is?” Riley points to the store with a picture of a doll on it. “That’s right!” The tape changes to the store. Behind Amanda and Wooly is a shelf with three stuffed toys. 

“Oooh! What cute toys.” Wooly remarks. The tape glitches and suddenly all three have X’s for eyes. “Oh… haha.” 

“Which toy should be our new friend?” Amanda asks, “the doll, the dog, or the… dolphin… oh…” sadness suddenly hits her. For a split second Amanda’s face gets really close to the screen and we hear a distorted Amanda say “I’m… sorry Ruthie…” before the tape glitches back to normal. Riley selects the blue dog. 

“Gre-Great choice, friend.” Wooly says nervously. 

“Wooly, you be our dog friend and I’ll be Ruthie, got it?” 

“Okay!” 

“Hi I’m Ruthie, I just moved into town, wanna be friends?” Amanda says, grabbing the doll.

“Oh yes, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Wooly! I’d love to be friends!” Wooly beams. 

“Wooly! You can’t use your real name!” Amanda hisses. 

“Oh… right… um…” 

“What should we name our new puppy friend?” Amanda asks. This is it. The perfect opportunity to see how they’d react to the name Riley spotted in the credits last episode. So they type it in. William. Wooly’s eyes grow as big as saucers. 

“Hmm… William. I like it. Nice choice. Right Wooly? Um Wooly?” Amanda notices that Wooly is just staring at Riley in dead silence. “Wooly.” 

“Ah, right. What were we talking about?” 

“The puppy’s name, don’t you like it?” 

“What was his name again?” Wooly asks. Riley types in William again. “Oh… right. Yeah nice name…” 

“Okay… then…” Amanda utters, feeling a little weirded out, “Hi, I’m Ruthie, I just moved into town! Wanna be friends?” Wooly reminds quiet, completely spaced out. “Wooly? Wooly… Wooly!” Amanda says, starting to feel a little frustrated. 

“Yes? Right! Sorry… It’s nice to meet you… I’m… William…” he trails off again. He starts gripping the puppy tighter. 

“Hi, I’m Ruthie. I just moved into town. Wanna. Be. Friends?” Amanda repeats, growing impatient. 

“It’s nice to meet you… I’m… I’m… I’m…”

“Um… W-” 

“I’m… who am I again?” he asks, looking up at Amanda desperately. She wants to say, You’re Wooly. But deep down she knows that’s not what he’s asking. 

“You’re you.” she finally answers. “You’re… you.” but that’s not nearly enough to calm him down. The tape starts glitching… really bad. “That’s not good. How about we take some deep breaths-” Wooly glares at her. “Not helping, got it.” Amanda frantically looks around the room, but the truth is she simply has no clue what to do. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“I don’t want to… I don’t wanna think about it… ever again… never again… I just wanna forget…” 

“Okay, then we can forget!” Amanda laughs nervously. 

“But I can’t forget… I can’t remember and I can’t forget. I hate this… I just hate it all!” Wooly’s demon form starts popping out. 

“Not good! Riley run!” Amanda shouts. But it’s already too late. The demon has already been summoned. Riley is already dead. 

Not me listening to a piano cover of “Kuninaru” while writing this. (The lyrics fit Amanda and Wooly so well!)

Anyway this fit was shorter, but that's because this is a bad ending fic *rubs hands together evilly* IDK WHY I LIKE WATCHING CHARACTERS WHO BOTTLE EVERYTHING UP FINALLY SNAP I'M SORRY AND ALSO NOT SORRY.

[luvfy0dor]

Hello there ! I find your writing lovely and I saw that you were asking for some ideas.... its been kinda cold and rainy lately and I was wondering.. what about fyodor and the reader staying under the blankets and cuddling to stay warm... (and allowing him to get some rest) ...

"I Want Your Dreary Mondays" Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; None, just fluff!!

Description; Cuddling with Fyodor! It's kinda short, but I think it hits all the important points!

A/n; Man it has been so rainy lately for me, too. It makes me so tired all the time like it gets hard keeping my eyes open after noon tbh and it just puts me in a mood 💔

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Your eyes opened to a slight darkness rather than the usual sunshine that peeked through your windows each morning. The cold air matched the dreary mood that came from the lack of natural light combined with the pitter patter of the rain outside. You blinked a few times, still not fully awakening but yawning and stretching as well as you could while staying under the blankets. The feeling of your lover breathing against your neck didn't contribute to your warmth very much, making you shiver a little bit whenever the chilly air hit your skin.

His wooly sweater though, on the other hand, did you some justice. You tugged the covers over your shoulder and snuggled right on up to your lover, his eyebrows furrowing a bit before he wakes up, looking down at you. He was clearly still sleepy and dazed, his eyes squinted with drowsiness. "Are you cold?" He whispers, cuddling right back into you. His bony hands ran up and down your back and sides as he rests his head in between your shoulder and neck. You nod, humming in response as you slide your hands up the back of his sweater in attempt to warm them up.

He sharply inhales when he feels how frigid your hands were, his back arching slightly away from your touch. "You weren't lying, my love." He says, right before prying one of your hands from his back and holding it in his own. He gives it a soft squeeze, his head still in the crook of your neck as he inhales your familiar scent. You squeeze it back and snuggle up to him, peppering soft, chaste kisses along his neck. His cheeks visibly grew pinker, even if it was only in the slightest, you could still tell. Even the most minute change in his demeanor or appearance would not go unnoticed by you, and the same goes for him. He knew you like the back of his hand, and even though he wasn't the best at showing it all of the time, he noticed all the small things just like you did.

He noticed your sleepiness before you did sometimes, scooching closer to you so you could rest your head on his shoulder. He noticed discomfort, guiding you away from a situation as discreetly as possible. Most of the time he even knew what question you were going to ask before you even opened your mouth, having an answer prepared for you. He is a very observant man, or maybe your just very obvious? Perhaps it was a combination of both.

In this very moment, Fyodor could tell you didn't want him to leave the warmth of your bed. He quickly realized that your kisses were an attempt at coaxing him into cuddling with you without explicitly asking. He grinned a bit before sitting up, escaping your hold and yawning. You gave him a perplexed and disgruntled look before grabbing his hand again. "Hey, you can't just leave! I'll freeze, Fedya, do you want me to die?" You say, pulling the blankets up to your face, trying to replace the heat from Fyodors body. "You're not going to freeze to death, it's not cold enough for that." He deadpans, holding onto your hand.

"Well if I won't die then I'll suffer. I'll suffer this harsh, harsh weather all alone." You say. He quietly scoffs, moving his hair out of his face. "You'll be fine." He says, kissing your forehead quickly before getting out of bed, fully removing the blanket from his lap, immediately shivering. "Look at you, you're freezing, Fedya. Get back in bed." You say, tossing the blanket back over his body and hugging onto his midsection before he lays back down.

"I was far from freezing." He murmurs. "But since you're so insistent, I guess I'll entertain your request this once." His voice is soft and quiet, the man already becoming drowsy again. You smile in accomplishment, rubbing his back with a grin. "Mhm, you should take a break from working anyway. You overwork yourself a lot." You whisper. He hums in response before replying. "Yes, I agree, but one day it'll be worth the while, my love. We'll be able to live the best life possible, I promise." He mumbles, his hair tickling your skin. You nod, twirling some of the strands around your finger. "But still...one day won't hurt, I promise." You quietly speak before the both of you fall asleep together, limbs entangled under the warm blanket; safe from the cold rainy weather on the outside.

A/n; me when I post ❤️💞😻💖 Anyways you guys life update I gotta take a full chapter of notes tonight because they're due tomorrow so thrilled u guys so thrilled

[thisisangiesworld]

Sparkling red

In which you fight against the fate of the Valkyries.

Cassian x sister!reader

Warnings : blood, death, injuries, mention of vomiting

Word count : 8,4k

Author note : Posting this for the last day of @cassianappreciationweek as it's what inspired me to finish and post it as my first ACOTAR writing!

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Present time - 

It was somewhat pretty. 

From where you were, you couldn’t see the sky. But you could picture its color; according to the reflections in the snow, the sun was slowly rising, a wonderful show of fire for whoever had the chance to watch. Maybe there were clouds too. You closed your eyes, and wooly forms danced behind your eyelids. A shallow breath, two, and you opened your eyes again. 

Moving your head was nearly impossible. It felt like a farrier was hitting your skull with a hammer. Almost as if the hits reverberated in your bones, shaking and irritating every single nerve of your body. And the cold had dug its claws in you, making you lose the feeling of your legs and your wings. No, you couldn’t move. But you really wanted to see the sky, and the branches above your head were blocking the view.

You had been staring at the snow for what felt like hours, and you still couldn’t understand what those things were. It was everywhere - dripping down the trunks of the trees, splattered over the snow, on your hand that was half buried in the wet coldness. 

The light soon became too bright, the snow too blinding, and you found yourself looking for the mysterious things. The sight of them was easier to bear, and you soon became accustomed to their soothing color. Red, brighter than the dawn, almost as dark as the wine Mor loved to drink. It reminded you of Cassian’s siphons. 

A color soft for the eyes, yes, but not really comforting, though. 

It held a threat, a menace, and the more you looked at the things, the more you knew it wasn’t supposed to be somewhat pretty or soothing. If your brain was cloudy, the feeling in your gut eventually became so strong that you moved. In spite of the pain in your limbs, you brought your arms closer to you, pushed with the palms of your hands on the frozen ground and, with groans that seemed to rip your throat apart, you stood on your feet. 

Your eyes took in all that they couldn’t see before; the sun, the clouds, the high branches with no leaves, standing around you like rusty weapons on a battlefield. 

A battlefield. 

That single word triggered something in you. A rush of adrenaline, a heartbeat so quick that  became chaotic, muscles tensed, on the verge of breaking. 

The soldier in you was back, and with it, the realization of what those things, this thing, was. 

Blood. 

___________

- Earlier -

War meant that your family was threatened, that much Cassian and you knew quite well. You were warriors, born and raised to be soldiers because a stubborn bastard and his stubborn sister weren’t worthy of anything else. Your family was probably the strongest in Prythian, each member being more dangerous than the last. Rhysand was the most powerful Fae that you had ever met, Azriel had the shadows for him and that unfaltering determination. Even Morrigan, who thankfully wasn’t fighting in this war, had that deep rooted instinct that made her someone you better not underestimate. 

And of course there was Tanwyn. If you had to describe her in a few words, you would say that Tanwyn was a Cassian made woman. That was probably why the two of them had gotten along so well since the beginning, and why they had fallen in love with each other. She was the leader of the Valkyries, these brave females from all Prythian who had decided that they were as worthy of their sword as males could be. You had always admired them, and you had the honor to have shared training with the warriors and to be considered as an honorary member of their group. 

It had helped you survive all the battles you had fought already in this damned war, and in this damned place that had become your home.

Your camp was in one of the only plains of the Winter Court. Through the years, it had become a small city, sometimes teeming with life, sometimes haunted by death. 

It was one of those days, where the screams and the dim of the weapons still resonated between the barracks. A freezing wind was blowing, and even though the tents were barely a comfort, few were willing to get out of them. As a result, Cassian and you felt like you were in a ghost town, alone to share some hours for the first time in almost a year. 

The first thing you had noticed was Cassian’s limp. He had tried to hide it from you of course, but you had seen right through it. Then your brother had called you out on the scar that was running on the side of your neck, and you were now sharing the few pieces of information you had about your family. 

“I’ve heard that Azriel can’t leave the High Lord’s side,”  grumbled Cassian. “Even Rhys has no word from him. From what I know he hasn’t even been on the battlefield in months.”

“That’s good news,” you answered. “Though I’m not sure his place is less dangerous than ours.”

“All I know is that he better have a good excuse for giving no word for years. I think I’ll beat his sorry ass for good measure, maybe to remind him of us once this is all over.”

You chuckled. 

“I’m pretty sure he hasn’t forgotten about us - about me at least. We all know I’m his favorite.”

“You’re everyone’s favorite, you little brat.”

You stuck your elbow playfully on your brother’s side. A silence settled - at the moment, you cursed yourself for not using every little second you had with Cassian to make sure he knew everything, that you wanted him safe, that you missed him, that you loved him. But sometimes, it was so overwhelming that you couldn’t find anything to say. 

It was a chance that you were passing by the camp-lord’s tent at that very moment, when he was in the heat of the conversation with what sounded like an envoy. 

“The Gollian Mountains?” Lord Olwahld exclaimed. “But- that’s the eastern part of the court!”

“I know my Lord, but that’s what the lady said.”

You stopped as something had struck a chord. Unlike what Olwahld seemed to believe, the Gollian Mountains weren’t that far from the camp, and if something happened out there, odds were that you would be sent to fight. 

“She said help is needed as soon as possible,” the man insisted. He almost had a pleading tone, and that made your blood freeze in your veins. “My Lord, your camp is the closest from the Mountains, and-”

“No.”

The Lord’s voice thundered, and even though he didn’t know what was happening, Cassian growled. The door-like fabric moved swiftly, and a boy that couldn’t be older than sixteen or seventeen appeared. His face was distorted with anger, and something that looked an awful lot like grief. He didn’t realize you and your brother were here until he almost knocked into you. 

“What’s happening, boy?” asked Cassian. “What news do you have from the Mountains?”

“Death is what is going to happen.” the boy answered darkly. “These females stand no chance against whatever army they’ll face. The Valkyries, they call themselves. After all it doesn’t matter, I’m not even sure there’ll be a single grave to write their name on.”

With that, he turned tails and disappeared between the tents. 

You didn’t remember having ever seen Cassian in such a state of shock. He was there, looking blankly in the void in front of him, his mouth still open as if he was ready to give an answer to the now gone young man. You could only imagine how his brain was working hard, trying to figure out how he could be of any help for Tanwyn - no, how Tanwyn could even be in such grave danger. You weren’t sure yourself of how great the danger was, actually. 

Some courts were actively supporting Hybern’s side; they were ready to do absolutely anything to keep the human race as slaves, even going as far as annihilating the courts ruled by High Lords sympathetic to the human cause. Spring and Autumn were known to unconditionally support for Hybern, and Dawn and Day’s implication in the war was blur. Anyways, strong rumors had circulated in your camps, and Rhysand had confirmed it last time you had seen him a few months ago: Clythia, one of Hybern’s officers, was suspected to be trying to join the Middle, where she could try to rally ancestral creatures to her cause. It was a dangerous bet, thoughtless even, but it could surely tip the balance. 

This was why the Winter court, though will-driven by neutrality since the beginning of the war, had recently agreed to let Illyrian camps be installed in their snowy territory. 

“What am I going to do?”

It was Cassian, and the barely audible tremor of his voice interrupted your train of thoughts. It almost sounded as if he was mourning Tanwyn already, as if he was already holding her lifeless body in his arms and was facing the consequences of a terrible loss. 

“We’re going to help them, Cassian. This is what we are going to do.”

With that, you grabbed your brother’s arm and pulled him forward, forcing him to follow your pace through half of the camp. Your first impulse would have been to barge in Lord Olwahld’s tent and demand soldiers to send to the Valkyries’ side. But the rational part of your mind knew that the Lord would never accept, not for the sake of a group of females and especially not if the little female bastard was the one formulating said demand. No, it would have only thrown away any chance of helping the Valkyries - you needed to think of something else. 

Cassian was silent, almost obediently walking behind you and with no doubts lost in his thoughts. He didn’t even react to the few whispers and whistles on their passage, when he would usually throw a few punches to make sure nothing bad was if only thought about his sister. The only sign that he was still in that head of his was the storm in his hazel eyes. 

By the time you got to your tent, you had already thought of some rudimentary plan. And you hoped that Cassian would come to his senses, because he would be the key to your success. 

“We don’t know much, but the one thing we can be sure of is that Tanwyn will need backup,” you started. It seemed to get Cassian out of his stupor, because he changed his slumped posture for an alert attitude. Your heart felt a bit lighter - your brother would be with you in this. “I think either Spring or Autumn have soldiers ready to take a pass in the mountains to get an easier access to the Middle. It’s only rumors, but it could explain why invading the Winter court when they have stayed out of this. As far as we know, the Valkyries are the only rampart against them.”

“They are about fifty,” Cassian spoke up. “The Gollian Mountains are a hell of a place, and at this period of the year there won’t be a lot of the passages that will be practicable. That leaves four, maybe five key positions that need to be defended. Plus at least two groups placed before and after every passage to make sure they can’t get past the mountains.” Cassian had come to the same conclusion as you. “We need soldiers.”

“We do.”

“Y/N, Olwahld wouldn’t even give us a sword, what makes you think he’ll give us soldiers?”

That was the hardest part of the plan. You knew perfectly that if it was you or Cassian formulating the demand, Olwahld would have you rotting in one of those rudimentary cells for a week before even considering alerting the higher officers, those who were in charge of the discipline in the camps. No, you needed someone else. Someone more important than you. 

The ideal would have been Rhysand’s father, of course. But that wasn’t possible; even though you were closer to him than anyone could think, the High Lord of the Night Court wouldn’t have put a soldier’s life on the line for what he would see as a lost cause. You needed someone who would act on his belief but who would be on your side. 

“We need Rhysand for this,” you said. “One of us needs to alert Rhys, and the other has to go to the Mountains as quickly as possible, because as far as we know, the Valkyries might-”

“I know.” Cassian cut you off with a stern voice. “But what you’re saying is that I will have to warn Rhys while you sneak off the camp to join Tan and the others. Am I right?”

“You are,” you confirmed. “I know you don’t like it,” you added as your brother was on the verge of protesting, “but we both know my word counts for nothing. My presence is only accepted because I’m what they call an easily replaceable sword, because if I’m killed, it means a male isn’t.” Cassian growled, the same reaction he had whenever he was confronted with the treatment his little sister suffered. “Cass, I know you don’t like it, but you know as well as I do that the only way we have to contact Rhys quickly is by sending an official message. Olwahld will simply refuse if I’m the one asking for it, but maybe if it’s you…”

Your voice died in your throat as you realized how fragile that plan was. 

“This looks an awful lot like a desperate attempt,” commented Cassian. “Y/N, do you really believe this is going to work?”

“What other option do we have?” you snapped. “The Valkyries are going to be facing an army on their own, Gods, they could be fighting right as we speak! Cassian, why does it look like you don’t care?”

That was a low blow, you knew it very well. But you had thought that your brother would knock out anyone willing to get between him and Tanwyn. Cassian had never been the voice of reason, definitely not when someone he loved was endangered. And Tanwyn… He loved her. You both loved her. You both cared deeply for her and the Valkyries, these amazing warriors you admired so much. You couldn’t comprehend why Cassian would let such a thing as doubt prevent him from doing what was right. 

Your last words had hurt him. He had looked down, almost ashamed for a second. Only now did you notice the way he was triturating his hands. You were used to seeing Rhys do this, but not Cassian. Never Cassian. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t have-”

“I care.” Cassian whispered. “I love her, I love her so much…” 

He stayed silent for a few seconds, and you waited. Of course he loved Tanwyn, obviously he cared, and you felt your cheeks burn with shame. Your brother had a reason for being so hesitant. He always had a reason. 

“But what you’re telling me is to let you leave for a fight you’ll likely lose. I just can’t do that, Y/N. I can’t.”

“But if I don’t go-”

“Only one more warrior, no matter how good they are, will not make any difference against an army.”

The voice of reason. 

“We don’t know when Rhys will be able to come,” you objected. “I know they are damned skilled, but I can’t imagine that fifty of them against what could be a whole army could end well. Cassian, I won’t make any difference, but- they need to know help is coming. I might not be able to change the outcome of the fight, but hope could do just that, don’t you think?”

Cassian stayed silent. You could almost see the twirling of his thoughts. Deep down, you hoped he would think of something else, maybe a solution you hadn’t considered yet that would be better than your extremely flawed plan. But when his shoulders dropped, you knew he hadn’t found anything. Your mind wandered and you imagined Cassian agreeing with you, you both parting ways, each gone for a mission you probably wouldn’t be able to fulfill. 

“You better be careful,” he simply said, “or you can be sure I’ll kick your sorry ass when you come back.”

As you discovered a few hours later, leaving an Illyrian war camp readying for another battle was surprisingly easy, especially for someone as insignificant as you. Following Cassian’s instructions, you had gone to the crowded infirmary and pretended to be looking for an injured friend of yours. When you had obviously found out that your friend wasn’t among the wounded, you had used the back door. The latter, which led to a kind of glade where the bodies of the fallen soldiers were left until they were burnt, was barely watched. All you had had to do was to wait until the guards’ attention decreased, and you had sneaked off in the woods. 

Just like Cassian, you couldn’t winnow to the Mountains. Usually, your wings were more than enough and you prided yourself in being able to fly quite fast. But, no matter how fast you were, it was still a few hours long flight to get to the Gollian Mountains. All that you could hope was that the enemy would wait until the next day to attack. Given how capricious the weather could be in that part of Prythian, it wasn’t impossible. 

If everything went as you hoped, Rhys would be aware of the situation by the time you joined the Valkyries. He would follow Cassian back to the camp immediately, order Olwahld to send soldiers and a few hours later, the help your friends needed would be there. 

However, you weren’t an optimistic person, and it was hard to keep hoping everything would go as you so desperately wanted. 

___

The sky was bathed in a soft orange when you finally identified the rugged ridges of the Gollian Mountains. You had been flying close to the ground for almost an hour; you hadn’t wanted to risk being seen by eventual enemies, and the air streams were stronger higher in the sky. The muscles of your whole body were burning - you hadn’t been able to fly for that long in ages. It felt good. 

The roaring of the wind covered the sound of the snow crunching under your feet when you finally landed on the Mountains. You folded your wings tightly and drew your sword, even though you couldn’t see anything alarming. No sign of battle, no sign of the Valkyries. Only the storm was disturbing the peacefulness of the place. 

“It’s been a while, little one.”

It took all of your remaining strength not to jump at the voice that was coming from behind, saving yourself from the humiliation of having been surprised that easily. 

“One could have thought you too old to play hide and seek, Tan.”

Tanwyn chuckled, and took the dozen steps that were still separating her from you. The Valkyrie’s hand was resting nonchalantly on the pommel of her sword, and as far as you could see, she seemed to be unharmed. 

“Did anything happen to Cassian?” she enquired, her voice laced with worry. You hurriedly shook your head. “Then is it possible that my plea for help has been heard?” she asked before you could add anything, to which you nodded. “Good, because my situation is desperate.”

“How could it be? Aren’t you with the Valkyries?”

“I am, but it’s a dozen sailboats that are coming at the very least, we’re not enough,” she sighed. Her eyes were lost somewhere behind you. Only now did you realize how exhausted Tanwyn looked. “All the remaining Valkyries are here, the twenty-six of us. But among them are our youngest recruits and- I can’t let them fight. Eveana is barely sixteen! I won't have those kids’ blood on my hands,” she added after another sight. 

Your blood froze in your veins. Twenty-six. You didn’t dare to ask why half of the Valkyries were missing.

Tanwyn’s eyes were dark, clouded by what looked an awfully lot like fear. They didn’t lighten up when you explained your plan, not even when you mentioned that Cassian would most probably join you to fight with Rhys’ soldiers. She wasn’t even arboring her usual smirk, the one that gave her this permanently cocky expression Cassian loved so much. You had never seen her so unlike herself - so defeated. 

“They know things aren’t looking good.” Tanwyn turned tails, and nodded in the direction of a snowed grove below. You followed her, swallowing the thousand questions that were  burning your throat. “I’ve told the youngest I wanted them back to the Day court. I have an agreement with Kiheera’s parents, they’ll take them in if they protect the domain. They all refuse to leave.” 

“How many are they?”

“Four. Eveana and Melody are promising, but they don’t even have the ribbon yet. Kiheera and Attala have had theirs for barely three months. But none of them really know what war is, and they don't understand that it would be a suicide to stay with us. If your soldiers don’t arrive soon…”

As Tanwyn was telling you more about the conflict between the youngest recruits and herself along with the desperate situation they were in, she guided you through the trees. Eventually, the camp appeared in front of you; it was barely a cluster of tents, probably not efficient against the icy wind but invisible from the sky and, as you would bet, from the valley below. 

The very few Valkyries that you could see were wrapped up in thick furs; one of them, that you had never seen before, brought Tanwyn her cloak. The girl had the dark skin of the Day court, and you wondered if it was Kiheera. Tanwyn confirmed silently. 

Then the both of you crossed the camp and reached a slightly off-centered tent. 

“I haven’t thanked you yet for coming here,” said Tanwyn as she followed you inside. “I’m afraid of the outcome of this for all of us, but it truly means a lot that you came.”

“You know I would never let you down.”

“I know. This is why I’ve promised you that a white ribbon would always be waiting for you.”

You often wondered why you had declined her offer all those years ago. It was just after the Blood Rite, that you had completed with Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand despite the strict interdiction you had received. It had earned you a punishment that the Night Court’s High Lord had tried his best to lessen; even though being forced to leave Windhaven and your brothers for a year had felt like a trip in hell. It was pure chance that the Valkyries had found you in the last couple months of your exile, and the training you had received had been your anchor when you had gotten back to the Illyrian camp. Before you had left, Tanwyn had handed you the ribbon; and it was still in her hand when you had given her your back and had started your journey to join your brothers. 

A silence followed her statement. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked yet,” murmured Tanwyn. 

You knew very well what she was talking about, but you still raised the question, feeling like she needed it to give you the answer. 

“Tanwyn, what happened?” 

“Hybern happened. Did you know that Amarantha and Clythia have brought their army? We found out but… No one came to help,” she muttered. Her face was veiled, her teeth gritted. “I- I realized too late that it was a trap. I led twenty-five Valkyries to their death.”

She sucked in a harsh breath, and you did your best to keep a hold on yourself. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask who. You clenched your jaw, your fists, everything to help you overcome the wave of grief that was hitting you. You kept repeating to yourself that Tanwyn needed you, that now wasn’t the time or place to grieve. 

“I don’t understand why they still follow me,” she continued with a quieter voice. “Why the youngest left the camp in Day to join us here, why they keep placing their faith in me when I’ve failed them so badly.”

“Because they know that what happened wasn’t your fault,” you answered. “Because they remember all the victories you have offered them, all the times you’d have given your life for theirs.”

“But they are dead!” she exclaimed, and her voice broke.

She looked down, her shoulders slumped and hands shaking. You slowly got closer; you didn’t want her to retreat, as if she were a wounded animal that you were trying to approach. Eventually, you grabbed her forearm and she allowed you to pull her against you. You hugged her, squeezing your arms around her waist and allowing her to grieve in the comfort of a friend’s embrace. She didn’t shed a tear - after all, it was Tanwyn, and Tanwyn never cried. She just let you provide some comfort, perfectly still until you asked the question that was bothering you. 

“Why didn’t you tell us? Cassian or I, I mean.”

Tanwyn slipped out of your arms and gave you her back, probably in order to get a hold her herself before replying with a steady voice:

“Because it happened too quickly. And then… I didn’t want to worry any of you, not when you are continuously throwed in those bloody battles.”

You nodded, not wanting to scold her when she seemed to be in such a complex and torturous state of mind. Instead, you waited until she spoke up again. 

“I didn’t even ask you - how is Cassian? We haven’t been able to communicate in a while and- well, I know he’s alive, and if something bad had happened to him you’d have told me earlier, but still…”

“He’s okay, as much as he can be with that war going on. He’s been hurt a few days ago- nothing too bad, don’t worry!” you said when Tanwyn’s eyes widened. “A nasty thrust on his leg, it earned him a temporary limp and a few days of leave. He’s arrived at my camp early this morning.”

“And he still wants to fight?”

Tanwyn’s reaction took you aback. 

“Well, you know as well as I do that there’s no stopping him,” you mumbled. 

She rolled her eyes, but there was a ghost of a soft smile on her face.

“That imbecile.”

A loud call for Tanwyn echoed suddenly somewhere in the camp. The piece of fabric that served as a door opened brutally and a familiar face appeared. You’d recognize those vibrant green eyes and the crown of fiery hair anywhere - Idril, Tanwyn’s second. She was the one who had found you near their camp and dragged you to the rest of the Valkyries. If she had been reluctant to your presence at the beginning, she had become one of your closest friends in the group, and your favorite hand-to-hand fight partner. 

For a second, Idril seemed to hesitate between acknowledging your presence, which was visibly a good surprise as her eyes were almost sparkling, and the pressing news she undoubtedly had to give to Tanwyn. But she settled for a nod in your direction before urging Tanwyn and you to follow her outside. 

The three of you joined the group formed by all the Valkyries gathered around a fire. The flames seemed brighter than ever in the snowy mountains now plunged into the darkness of the night. You noticed that everyone was armed, as if the fight was imminent. A wave of panic crashed into you, almost making you stumble and stealing your breath. If Hybern’s soldiers were here already… There was no way the twenty-seven of you would repel hundreds of men, even if you had home advantage. Your mind wandered to Cassian and his own mission. You had refrained yourself from thinking of what would happen if he couldn’t contact Rhys, pushing all of your worries behind thick barriers and focusing on your next step. But the outcome of this desperate attempt would be known sooner than you’d like, and you couldn’t keep hiding from reality. 

Even when your trust in your future was slowly crumbling, you still managed to keep an ear in the conversation that was conducted next to you. From what you had gathered, one of the two sentinels that were keeping an eye on the northern part of the pass had come back a few minutes ago, announcing that five boats displaying sails in Hybern colors were following the coast toward the small beach. According to Idril, disembarking the soldiers and having them trudge in the snow and across the forest to reach the pass wouldn’t take more than three hours. 

There was no sign of an Illyrian detachment coming to help. 

You glanced at Tanwyn, who was giving orders. 

The battle was for soon. 

___

You could hear Eveana’s heavy breath somewhere on your left. When you glanced at her, you noticed that she was trembling, and even in the dim light of the full moon you could see her white knuckles gripping her spear tightly. No breathing exercise could help her overcome the terror that was creeping up her spine; just like you knew it couldn’t help you either. On your right, Ylva, the only Illyrian female of the Valkyries, was crouched down, her sword laid on the snow and her lips moving silently. You had never gotten along well with Ylva, and if she had never told you why she didn’t want to have to deal with you, you knew that odds were that she envied you for having kept your wings intact. She hadn’t been given the same chance. Now, in the dead of the night, you felt closer to her. The last member of your little group was Tanwyn herself. She had refused to let Eveana or you out of her sight, the first because she wanted to be able to send her away if things went south and you… Probably for the same reason. 

You were on the front line, even though it was far from being like the one you were used to. Tanwyn and Idril had agreed with the plan Cassian had enunciated what felt like years ago : only four passages connecting the beach and the pass were usable, and each of them was defended by a group of four. The remaining Valkyries were after the pass, meant to be the last rampart between Prythian and Hybern. 

You were terrified - that was the least you could say. It was unlike any other battle you had fought, unlike any training you ever had. You couldn’t stay as still as Tanwyn, your breath was caught in your throat, your hands didn’t even respond to you and you couldn’t keep a good grip on your sword. Suddenly, there were so many things that you regretted - not saying goodbye to Cassian, not giving him a message for Azriel, Mor, Rhys and his family. You had never properly thanked Cassian for all his sacrifices, for all those years he had fought alone against the world to make sure you had food and clothes. You never had the chance to mourn the fallen Valkyries, you had never told Tanwyn how important she was to you, how you knew that Cassian and her were made for each other. 

If you wanted a chance to do it, you’d have to fight your way to the sunrise. 

Positioned like this, four against the Mother knew how many soldiers, you could only pray that Cassian and Rhysand would come to your rescue. 

They never came. 

___________

- Present time -

The realization hit you and brought your knees back to the ground. You were surrounded by blood, crimson rivers that were shining under the sun and contrasting violently with the snow. A disgustingly sweet and metallic smell was brought to your nostrils in waves carried by the wind. It was overwhelming and, soon enough, you found yourself unable to even think past this abominable scent. It made you sick, made you desperate to expel all the air of this universe so that you would stop being surrounded by this atrocity. It turned your stomach and you whimpered as you emptied its meager content on the snow. Tears were burning your eyes and you got on your feet again, almost thankful for the putrid smell that was now covering the scent of the blood.

Looking around, all you could see was an abandoned shield near a tree. You didn’t recognize the place - even though you were unable to recall any memory of the battle, you still had in mind a vivid picture of your waiting in the dark before the beginning of the fight, and you were then surrounded by many more trees than this. 

Slowly, you made your way to the shield to grab it. You were unable to lift your left wing and left it dragging on the snow. You looked around once more - and immediately regretted it. 

You felt sick again. You couldn’t miss them. Bodies lying on the ground, some half buried under the snow, some awfully mutilated. Your eyes stopped on the fragile frame of the girl Tanwyn had wanted safe, away from this butchery. Eveana, from her sixteen years of life,  had fought this battle and had died spear in hand. 

You found Tanwyn only a few meters away from Eveana. Her skin was cold, covered with the blood of so many soldiers that her scent had disappeared. You fell to your knees and cradled her body against you. 

Her head resting against your shoulder, her hand crushed in yours, you cried all the tears you had left and all the tears she had never shed. 

You cried for your friend, for Cassian’s lover, for the warrior and for the woman who had believed in you. 

You cried for that fucking ribbon that you had declined, for the day you had chosen to leave her to go back to your own family. 

You cried for all the following visits to the Valkyries, for all these times that had brought you closer and closer to Tanwyn. 

You cried in hope to expel all the pain she had accumulated in her life; because you couldn’t imagine a world without her, because the Valkyries would mourn her forever. 

You cried until you had no tears and no voice left, until your heart was numb and its broken pieces buried in this cursed snow. 

And when you stopped crying, you carefully untied the white ribbon that was still adorning Tanwyn’s forehead. Using your sword, you cut the piece of fabric in two, stuffed a part in your leathers and tied the other to the pommel of the blade she was still gripping. You laid her body delicately on the ground and crawled away, unable to bear the weight of the loss, until your arms gave up on you and you fell face first in the snow. 

You closed your eyes. 

___________

His blood was boiling. 

Cassian wasn’t even feeling stupid for that mistake that put him in this miserable cell. No, his clouded mind was wholly focused on how he had been unable to help his sister and his lover, how both were risking their lives and counting on him. And he? He was rotting behind those bars because he couldn’t control his own fucking tongue. 

Olwahld had listened to him. He had agreed to let him leave the camp to alert Rhys of that dangerous threat and, may the Mother be his witness, Cassian had believed that the Lord wasn’t such a bastard as he had first thought. He had felt like he could finally breathe - he would soon join you, join Tanwyn and the Valkyries, and you would all fight side to side. 

Then it had slipped out of his mouth - the Valkyries. Olwahld, when he had realized what it was all about, had erupted in rage before sending Cassian in this damned cell. 

It had been days. 

Rumors went fast in the camps, especially when it concerned Prythian and the war. And he had heard the most terrifying ones: some said that Hybern armies had invaded the eastern part of the Winter Court, that the scout sailboats had wiped out all resistance to make the path clear for the thousand of following ones. 

He didn’t know what the truth was, and it was driving him crazy. 

He had tried everything. Negotiation - hours of pleas and propositions of punishment in compensation for any problem him contacting Rhys could cause had been lost in the night. When he had realized it was pointless, he had tried corruption - he had promised luxurious rewards from the High Lord himself for the help of anyone willing to let him out of his cell. He had been met with laughs, and the few curious Illyrians had been put on burning duty, a nice word to say that the mounds of dead bodies were getting too big and needed to be reduced to ashes. Corruption wasn’t the solution, so he decided to try something that was more like him -  destruction. He had screamed, let his rage ignite his veins and unleashed all he had left on those damned bars. 

All he had gained was bruised fists and a stake made of ash wood wedged in his shoulder, which might have been another reason for his boiling blood.

But on the morning of the eighth day in that cell, he woke up from his agitated sleep with a strong feeling in his guts. It was as if the Cauldron had spilled its burning content in his stomach; he knew that something would happen soon with such certainty that it physically hurt to wait for it. 

He waited for hours, and nothing happened. 

He waited for so long that he started to wonder if his feverish state wasn’t playing tricks on his mind - it had worsened considerably the previous days, up to the point that his vision was almost permanently blurry and his skin hot enough to heat all the cells adjacent to his.

And then, suddenly, it happened. 

It started with an unusual noise outside - on the other side of the jail, that the little opening in the wall didn’t allow him to see. It sounded like half of the Illyrians of the camp were having a heated argument, though Cassian couldn’t hear any sound indicating anyone had come to blows. The growing turmoil abruptly stopped - at this moment, a few Illyrians ran past his cell toward what had caught Cassian’s attention. 

Someone roared virulent insults, and Cassian’s heart leaped in his ribcage. 

It was Rhysand. 

___

Less than an hour later, the door of his cell swiftly opened, but it wasn’t his brother who was standing in the opening. Lord Olwahld looked down at him with a carefully neutral face, and the struggle to stay cordial to a bastard he despised had his voice laced with disgust. 

“Lord Rhysand has brought to my attention that you shouldn’t be locked up in this cell,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “He asked me to offer my full apologies to you, and to lead you to his tent.” 

Cassian jumped on his feet - and stumbled miserably when dizziness hit him. However, no matter how bad he felt, he wouldn’t give Olwahld the pleasure to have him asking for help - so he squared his jaw and followed the Lord. 

The first thing he noticed was the total absence of people in front of Rhys’ tent. Then, when Olwahld opened the door of the tent for Cassian to enter, the smell hit him and almost brought him to his knees. It was blood. 

Fearing for his brother’s life, his heart racing disorderly, Cassian rushed inside. He was met with a seemingly furious Rhysand, and above all a Rhysand who was walking on his two feet. 

“Rhys-”

He wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but there were so many things happening all at once in that tent that his dizzy brain couldn’t process it all. First, Rhys. Then he realized that the bright yellow spot behind his brother was attached to the body of a female he knew all too well - he wanted to ask what could have brought Mor here, but then the horde of healers, among which he recognized Madja - who was supposed to be with the High Lord - interrupted his disordered thoughts. He barely noticed the envoy who had begged for help what felt like centuries ago - the young man was standing in a corner of the tent.

Cassian stuttered words even he didn’t understand, but his voice died in his throat when Rhys engulfed him in a strong embrace. It felt like they hadn’t seen each other in centuries. 

“He didn’t tell me- this Olwahld bastard is going to pay,” growled Rhysand. “For you and for Y/N.”

Your name rang a bell in Cassian’s sick mind - and this time, even though it tore his throat apart, he managed to articulate a comprehensible question. 

“What happened to her?”

Rhys’ breath seemed to get suddenly caught in his throat, and he looked away from Cassian. He looked away, that was something that Cassian had never seen and it terrified him. 

Rhys took a step aside, and Cassian made a shattered noise. 

You were barely recognizable. The healers gathered around your unconscious body were hiding most of your injuries, but Cassian could see your face - bruised, gaunt, devastatingly broken. 

The sight brought him to his knees. 

Rhys took a step, but Mor emerged from the group of healers and rushed to his side. Gently, silently, as if he were a wounded animal, she approached her hands from his arm and helped him up, not faltering once under his weight. 

Cassian didn’t realize that the silent exchange between Rhys and his cousin was about him; he only reacted when Mor pulled him to the exit of the tent, which made him tear his eyes off your broken frame. 

“No- no!” 

He tried to fight, but, weakened as he was with the fever and his own wound, Mor had no trouble forcing him to follow her to another tent. 

His mind was grappling with the last image it had of you. Hurt, unconscious, suffering, alone. He didn’t want to know what it meant for Tanwyn, for the Valkyries; he didn’t even want to think of the possibility of losing you. 

Falling unconscious felt like a benediction from the Cauldron itself.

___

When he woke up again, the camp was plunged into the dark. A fire was bathing the inside of the tent in a comforting light, and it warmed the air enough for him to remain shirtless without being cold. 

The fever was gone, and so was the dull pain in his shoulder he had almost gotten used to. 

He closed his eyes again, and the image of your unconscious body appeared in his mind. The sight sent a jolt of electricity in his body, and he jumped on his feet. No faltering came to bother him, and he promptly left the tent, rushing to go back to where he had seen you… When was it? A few hours ago? A few days? 

When he finally reached the tent and rushed in, he wasn’t expecting the peaceful atmosphere. You were still unconscious, still gaunt and pale and bruised, but there was no blood anymore. Your hair was clean, the bandages he could see were pristine white, your features seemed more relaxed than the last time he had seen you. 

There were no healers anymore, only Mor and Rhys, both snuggled against each other on the floor at the foot of your bed. Mor was sleeping soundly, but Rhys’ eyes were staring at Cassian full of worry for him, as the latter realized when his brother spoke up. 

“Are you feeling better?” Cassian nodded, his own gaze fixed on you. “Then take the chair, the sun will only be up in a few hours.” 

Indeed, a single chair had been placed next to your bed, as if someone knew that Cassian wouldn’t leave your side ever again. Knowing fully well who had had that attention, the latter felt a knot forming in his throat. He couldn’t even speak, even though he wanted to know what the bloody hell was happening. 

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow, brother,” murmured Rhysand. “It will be a long day. You should rest.”

Cassian nodded again and sat, wincing when his rigid muscles reminded him of the last few days. When he realized that he was still shirtless, he grabbed a blanket that was still folded on your bed and wrapped himself in it, getting ready for an unknown amount of time without sleeping. 

He wouldn’t close an eye before you woke up. 

___

No one had expected that you would come back to consciousness so quickly. Despite all his resolutions, Cassian had dozed off at some point and he jolted awake at the soft noise of crumpling fabric just next to him. 

“Y/N!” he shouted when his eyes found yours open. “Oh, thank Gods you’re awake, Y/N- Gods!” 

And with all the restraint he could manage, all the delicacy he knew you needed, he pulled you to his chest and broke down when your arms wrapped around him. He broke down like a kid and sobbed loudly, his face hidden in your neck to smell your scent. He was completely oblivious to Mor and Rhys’ presence. The rest of Prythian could have been burning, he didn’t care. 

He had almost lost you, his little sister, the only being in this damn world who shared his blood. He had agreed to that reckless plan, had let you leave on your own, then he had failed you and you had come back injured, almost dead. 

Cassian felt a hand on his shoulder, and then Rhys was hugging you both, and Mor joined him. 

You all stayed like this for what felt like hours. 

You didn’t say a word, and fell asleep again soon after Cassian let you go. 

___________

You had been awake for some time, but you hadn’t opened your eyes yet. 

You remembered little from the previous days - you truly had no idea of how you had come back to that camp. You didn’t know why or how Rhys and Mor, whose scents were mixed with Cassian’s and impregnating everything around you, had come over here. 

All you could remember was the little piece of fabric you had hidden in the leathers you were still wearing, the magnificent fire you had lighted for the Valkyries, two silhouettes disappearing in the night. You had a faint memory of Cassian’s voice in your ear, of his sobs that had wrecked your already damaged heart. 

And now, the tent and your family around you. 

You would have so many things to tell them, and yet you had so little restraint on the grief that was striking you…

Calloused fingers brushed against your forehead, stopping all of sudden your train of thoughts. You opened your eyes. Cassian was sitting next to you, his hand still close to your face, his gaze fixed on you. His frown lessened and he even managed a weak smile. 

“You scared me,” he croaked out. 

In his bloodshot eyes, you could see all that he didn’t tell you. All that he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Instead, he helped you sit and only murmured soothing words when you winced in pain. 

“Why-”, you tried to ask, but a coughing fit that burned your entire being interrupted you. 

Cassian’s hand only left your back when your breathing stabilized. 

“I believe it will be better to wait to have this conversation,” said a voice that you hadn’t heard in months. 

Rhys had indeed stepped into the tent, and was holding the fabric for Mor to follow him. The latter rushed to your side and engulfed you in a hug. Rhys had stopped next to Cassian, but he was smiling warmly in your direction. 

You knew what they were trying to do; whether it was Mor with her sweet words or Rhys with this smile that didn’t reach his eyes, they were desperately trying to break the lingering tension around you. Cassian obviously couldn’t bring himself to do the same, and it was more than understandable - he knew. 

Of course he knew, and nothing would ever be the same again. 

You felt a soft brush against your mental shields, and opened a tiny door for Rhys to whisper in your mind. 

I found you among the bodies. I know how it ended, but not how it happened. Do you want to show me?

He didn’t elaborate - he didn’t need to. It was a kind proposition, one made for you to avoid all the suffering that would be brought by the necessity to tell them what happened in the mountains. You wanted to accept, even though you felt like it would make you a coward. 

But you realized something that made you change your mind and refuse Rhys’ offer: those two silhouettes that you remembered, you knew you would never see them again. No one would. 

And it made you the only person able to pass on the Valkyries’ legacy like they deserved. 

So, one day, you would tell them. 

You knew that you would eventually remember it all - your nightmares would be plagued with scenes of the horror you had endured in the Mountains. You would never forget the crimson rivers in the snow, the weapons stuck in the frozen ground, the dozen corpses surrounding you. The putrid smell of the funeral pyre would stay engraved in your mind, just like your muscles would always feel the weight of Tanwyn’s lifeless body in your arms. The sharp guilt would keep twisting your insided every time you would picture the silhouette of the two Valkyries that had left after the pyre was lit up. You didn’t even know their name. 

One day, you promised yourself, you would tell them. 

But, as cowardly as it probably made you look, you were unable to tell them now. 

You didn’t dare to look at your family. In your mind, Rhys whispered that they understood - they all knew how painful the wounds left to the survivors could be. 

Still, there was one thing you had to do. 

A sharp pain shot through your arm as you slipped your hand under your blanket. You searched through your leather for a second, and met Cassian’s gaze as you handed him the ribbon.